TW: abuse, blood, wounds, mention of alcoholism

Two hours later, almost the entirety of the Walker family was sitting at the table reserved for special events. The only one missing was one of his grandmothers, who was on an important trip. Nobody had told Ben that there was going to be one of those family dinners they used to go to before what happened with Draco.

So he was stuck with his whole family, including his grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and the Malfoys. Mother had made him sit next to his cousin Jack, who was eating his food like a dog, and his sister Audrey.

Draco was on the other side of the mahogany table, right in front of him, still with bandages on the nose. Ben didn't know if it was because Malfoy was incredibly dramatic or because he had punched him much stronger than he intended to.

He hoped it was the second, since he had always wanted to be like one of those boys with visibly defined muscles. His aunt Lydia had asked Ben something, but he didn't notice. He was fixed on his thoughts, trying to understand what had happened.

When his father sent him that letter back in September, he expected his parents to be furious when he came back. He expected them to yell at him, maybe even him. However, nothing had happened aside from a couple of cold looks from them.

A part of him wanted to believe that it meant they had forgiven him, that they realised being a Gryffindor hadn't been something he had chosen. But he knew how they were, and forgiving and merciful weren't the best adjectives to describe them.

So the only other explanation was that they didn't want to do anything to him before the family dinner. Perhaps they were afraid they would think they were bad parents.

"Benjamin!" His mother's yell brought him back to real life, and also caused him to drop his spoon filled of soup on the stupid suit his father had made him wear. He heard Draco snigger.

"Sorry," he muttered, rushing to wipe away the stain with his napkin. "What were you asking, Aunt Lydia?"

Aunt Lydia suddenly looked extremely shocked and surprised. Her big hazel eyes were as open as a human's eyes could possibly be, and strands of light brown hair had escaped from the bun in which she had tied it. "What?"

"Um- What?"

"You were asking him something, Lydia," Katherine Walker reminded her sister-in-law.

Aunt Lydia frowned, then took a tremendously long sip of wine, and let out a hysterical laugh. The awfuly disgusted look on Sébastian's face almost made Ben chuckle, but he knew it would only bring him trouble, so he covered it with a short cough.

"Oh, yes, I remember now!" announced Aunt Lydia. "You know that I sometimes have memory problems..."

"And other kinds of problems, too," Audrey whispered to herself, but loud enough for Ben to hear her. He struggled to hold back a laugh again.

"I was going to ask you about Hogwarts," Aunt Lydia shrieked tipsily.

"Oh, it's very nice."

"Have you made new friends?"

"Ye-"

"No!" His mother screeched, attracting all the attention to her. "He has been with Draco the whole time, hasn't he, dear?" She gave Malfoy a sweet smile that made Ben mentally gag.

"I thought you said he has become friends with Potter, Draco," Narcissa Malfoy looked at her son with a confused look.

"Potter? " repeated Uncle Jonathan, his eyebrows furrowed. "As in Harry Potter?"

"No, as in someone who does pottery."

"Benjamin!" His father admonished. "Do not talk to your uncle like that ever again, do you understand?"

Ben looked to his plate, anger flowing through his veins like fresh lava.

"Answer me,"

"Yes, I understand." Ben forced himself to say, clenching his jaw. "And yes, Uncle Jonathan, as in Harry Potter."

"So, then, you must know if those rumours were true." Said Grandfather August.

"What rumours are you talking about, father?" asked Aunt Lydia after taking yet another sip from her cup.

"After the Dark Lord's fall, there were rumours that said Harry Potter would rise to power as a dark wizard." The old man explained, giving his daughter a nasty look before taking away her wine.

"Harry? A dark wizard?" Ben laughed, then stopped when his father shot him a look that made him instantly understand he was going to be in trouble after the dinner. "Sorry, I meant to say that I am highly doubtful about the idea of him becoming a dark wizard."

Audrey let out a cough that sounded oddly similar to the one that had escaped Ben's lips a few minutes before.

"Especially knowing who he consorts with," commented Lucius Malfoy. "Draco has told me that he and Ben are friends with Weasley."

"I thought we had told you to stop being around people like that," bellowed Sébastian Walker. "Blood traitors, half-bloods and even mudbloods!"

"Mudbloods?"

"Yes, he hangs around Granger," said Draco, grinning wickedly at him. "He even got his leg broken to help her when that troll broke in."

"Shut up!" Ben howled, blood pounding in his ears.

"What are people going to think of our family, now that your son is friends with undesirables like that?" hissed Uncle Harrison at his sister Katherine, speaking for the first time in the whole dinner.

"Oh, that child has ruined our legacy-"

"After hundreds of years of doing everything in our hands to maintain our blood pure."

"And he decides to be friends with that mudblood!"

"That's Dumbledore's fault in the first place, if only the most worthy were allowed to study there, this would not have happened."

"Muggleborns are worthy of studying there as much as every other wizard or witch!" yelled Ben, not being able to hold back his anger. "Besides, Hermione is probably the smartest person in our year!"

"Liar!" yelled Aunt Lydia, jumping to her feet too fast. She seemed suddenly dizzy, and grabbed her husband's shoulder before sitting back down. "How is a mudblood supposed to be the smartest in your year?"

"By not being a disgusting alcoholic like you, for example," he spat, and instantly regretted it.

"Benjamin!" shouted Katherine, standing up.

"Sit down, Katherine," demanded Grandfather August. The woman clenched her jaw so hardly Ben could've sworn he had heard the sound of her teeth crashing against each other. "Listen up, kid," he said, looking at Ben. "Mudbloods are as filthy as muggles and squibs, and letting them study with purebloods is corrupting our children, making them think that muggles have the same rights as us, that mudbloods deserve to use magic as much as we do!"

"And what have we purebloods done to deserve magic more than them? What have we done to deserve this ridiculous superiority? Huh? Being lucky enough to have been born into a privileged family of only wizards? Muggleborns were born with the same ability to use magic as us, therefore they deserve to learn how to control it properly as much as us. We haven't done anything special to deserve all of this stupid privilege, just like muggleborns haven't done anything horrible to deserve being treated like pieces of shit!"

"That's it!" shouted Katherine Walker, standing up. "Get up, Benjamin."

"Katherine, I told you to sit down," exclaimed Grandfather August. "Leave the boy alone."

"No, father, he's my son, I decide what to do with him," she retorted, and walked over to Ben's seat. "I said get up!"

The boy stood up, and was harshly dragged towards the door, as he tried to free himself from Katherine's grip. The last thing he saw was Alycia's tearful eyes looking at him from her seat, too scared to do anything.

"Mother, stop, you're hurting me!" He cried when she dug her pointed nails into his arms. "Please!"

She didn't stop, on the contrary, she pushed him even harder until she reached his room and closed the door behind them. She then let go of him, and Ben could see his own blood on the ends of her nails.

His heart was beating so hard it hurt his chest as she began shouting.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" she roared.

Ben instinctively backed off, but Katherine approached him. His back bumped into the wall, and he felt fear creeping up every single part of his body.

"I was only defending my friend."

An open palm slapped him hard on the face. He felt something small yet very pointy dig into his cheek. He wondered what it was, but couldn't take a look at it, since his vision was blurred, and he closed his eyes tightly, prepared for the next slap, which didn't take long to arrive.

"That mudblood is NOT your friend, do you hear me?" Ben covered his cheek with his hand, feeling a strong stinging pain, but still closing his eyes. "Do you hear me?"

He nodded shakily.

"Use your mouth for something useful for once," she barked, and his cheek was met by yet another slap. "Say that you have heard me."

"Y-yes."

"Good," she said, wiping off her son's blood from her fingers as though it was a repulsive substance. "You will not talk to them ever again."

"Who... Who's them?" he asked, getting so close to the wall that it looked as though he thought he was going to walk through it.

"Potter, Weasley and the mudblood."

"And how am I supposed to stop talking to Harry and Ron if we sleep in the same dormitory?"

"You will not start conversations with them, you will not answer their questions, you will not sit with them in the Great Hall or at classes, and you will pretend they don't exist."

"No, I won't."

The last slap of the night arrived. It was much harder than the predecessors, and it caused his head to hit the wall with a thud. A sharp jolt of pain shot through his skull, and his knees buckled, making him crumple to the ground as his room spun out of control. Katherine was still shouting something at him, though he couldn't hear her. The only thing he managed to understand was an 'Answer me!', but he had no clue of what he was supposed to answer to. He closed his eyes and covered his ears, wishing he could disappear and go back to Hogwarts. But, of course, that didn't happen. Instead, he felt a horrible burning sensation in his left arm, so painful he had to look up. His mother stood a couple of steps away from him, looking at him emotionless as she held her wand towards him.

"STOP IT!" he cried as that burning sensation increased. He pressed his right palm against his left arm, trying to lessen the pain. "PLEASE!"

He tried his best to keep in mind why he was at home. He and his friends were in the middle of uncovering a secret mystery, and they needed to find out who Nicholas Flamel was, and Ben was the only one who could help. He wanted to help his friends. He wanted them to be proud of him and to be happy and love him.

He focused so hard on the idea of what was going to happen once he got back, that for a while the pain decreased. And, after what seemed forever, Katherine lowered her wand and walked to her son. She crouched down so Ben could listen to her.

"You have earned this yourself, piece of shit."

———————————————

Ben opened his eyes heavily, feeling a slight dizziness. He had fallen asleep huddled against the corner of the wall, and there was a little pool of blood just below his face. It took him a couple of seconds to process that he had been sleeping in blood.

His own blood.

It all hit him, including the intense pain on his left arm. He tried to roll up his sleeve to see how far his mother had come that time, but his skin was stuck to his white shirt, staining it with blood.

He ripped the sleeve, trying to separate it from the wound, which caused him a very sharp pain. But he managed to do it, revealing the burn.

"Damn it..." he groaned in pain.

His skin had been raised, leaving a wound filled with a disgusting mixture of blood and pus. It was much worse than it had ever been. Katherine must have been really furious, then.

He took a look at the clock in his bedroom. Almost half past one, which meant it was already Christmas. Ben made an effort to get up, and headed to the drawer next to his desk. He knelt down, opened the penultimate drawer with his good arm, and began searching until he found some bandages.

Ben knew he had to put the burn under cold water, but he had heard his mother lock his door with a spell, so he wouldn't be able to get out of his room until she decided to forgive him.

Knowing that the wound would get much worse if he didn't do anything about it, he considered the idea of using a spell to cool his arm, but he knew himself and there was a high chance he'd end up freezing it. Besides, he couldn't do magic outside Hogwarts.

So he decided to just bandage the wound directly, and he'd worry about it afterwards. He had to bite his lip very hard to keep from crying out in pain as he did so. But, when he was done, he felt much better.

He sat on the ledge of the window, admiring the small but bright sparkling stars that covered the dark sky for some minutes. It was very cold outside, but it brought him a sense of comfort. The ground was a few meters from his window, and he wondered if he'd die if he jumped out of it.

His eyes stopped on the tree that grew a couple of feet away from his window, and noticed a certain branch. When he left for Hogwarts, it was too far for him to reach, but it seemed to have grown a lot during those almost four months he had been away. A crazy idea flashed in his mind.

He was silent for a few seconds, waiting to hear sounds coming from the dining room, which was just below his room. A side smirk formed in his face when he heard a raucous laugh from Aunt Lydia. They were still there.

Leaning on the window, he carefully stood up on the ledge. Holding on to the window handle, he checked if he could step on the branch in front of him. He made sure the branch wouldn't break before putting his weight on it.

Ben was glad he had always been quite light and agile, otherwise he would've fallen. He walked over to the trunk and held onto it tightly with his right arm. The branch in front of him was almost attached to one of a nearby tree, so he crouched down to cross that makeshift bridge.

He saw his objective to his left, and crawled up a nearby branch until he reached the library's window. To Ben's luck, it was open, so he went through the window and onto the small sofa where he used to read.

The library was for sure one of Ben's favourite places in the Walker manor. It was similar to the one at Hogwarts, but much smaller. There was only one table in the centre of the room, and there was a couple of stairs with wheels that allowed you to move around without having to get off

"Time to find that book," he whispered to himself, and headed towards the end of the library. He knew the book was on the last shelf, and he also knew that his parents never moved the books, so it would have to be in the same place.

After only ten minutes searching, he found the book that talked about important inventions of the magical world, and took it to the table. He was aware that his parents made Jenny check if all the books were in order every week, because they were order maniacs, so the idea of taking it to Hogwarts was ruled out.

There was ink, a quill, and a stack of parchment on the table, so Ben took them, placed the book in front of him and started trying to find any information about Nicolas Flamel.

The sections were organised in alphabetical order, but not classified by the inventor's first letter, but by the initial of whatever they invented, so he took over an hour and a half to finally find Nicolas Flamel's name.

"Here it is!"

He pushed the book back, and began to write down all the information that seemed relevant.

'The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary alchemical substance used to create the Elixir of Life, thanks to which the drinker was made immortal. Another of its dazzling abilities is that it transforms any metal into pure gold.

The existence of the only known stone is due to the French alchemist and wizard, Nicolas Flamel, who used the Elixir of Life to extend his and his wife Perenelle's lifespan for over six centuries.'

A crack was heard outside the library. Ben stood up immediately, almost dropping ink on the parchment. He waited in silence for half a minute, until he made sure the noise didn't repeat itself.

However, he decided to go back to his room, fearing someone would catch him. He left everything in its place, grabbed the parchment with his bad arm so he would be able to cling to the tree with the other, and repeated what he had done to reach the library.

His trunk was beside the closet, so he opened it and left the sheet of parchment between the first pages of a book before lying down on the bed and closing his eyes.

Katherine's voice came back to him. 'You've earned it yourself.'

Maybe she was right.

After all, he had been the one to talk back, he was the one who provoked his family and made her angry. He should've kept his mouth shut, like his parents had taught him. But no, he had to let anger overcome him, of course.

He was such a piece of shit, as Katherine had said.

A/N: hope you enjoyed<3