Chapter 110: Loyalty (1)

Catherine felt a gentle hand brushing her hair away and caressing her cheek. She felt very groggy and opened her eyes with a lot of effort. Her mother was sitting on the edge of her bed with a very sad and tender expression.

"You need to wake up, ma fille." – the Duchess said softly.

"What's the time?" – asked the girl, rubbing her eyes – "When did you guys get back?"

"Just an hour ago. It's six in the morning." – Louisa McMahon replied, standing up from her daughter's bed – "I woke you up because Betty died during the night."

Catherine froze, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. A terrible noise rang in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. It felt as though an invisible force pressed upon her chest, constricting her lungs and stifling her breath. Hot tears streamed silently down her cheeks, staining the fresh white sheets Betty had changed just the day before.

The absence of a single, seemingly inconspicuous presence left a gaping void in Catherine's world, a void that seemed to swallow everything in its wake. One of her earliest memories resurfaced – she was crying alone in her room when her parents had left with Greg for someone's birthday celebration. Back then, Catherine had still harboured hopes of persuading her family to take her along, but Louisa's firm refusal had sent the three-year-old into a fit of rage, unleashing her wild, raw magic and shattering every crystal glass in the dining room.

She had been sent to her room for hours, grounded for her inability to control her emotions. It was then that Betty had arrived, bearing homemade eclairs. The house-elf's presence had brought a glimmer of joy into Catherine's world. Together, they had spent the evening playing with colourful bubbles the creature filled the room with, momentarily distracting the young child from her sadness as she chased after them, laughing with pure delight.

"She was very old, ma chérie." – the Duchess tried to console her daughter, who clearly wasn't handling the news well.

Burning rage flashed in Catherine's green eyes as she stared at her mother with apparent disdain. 

"And yet she was more of a mother to me than you ever were between your exciting social life and professional success. At least I was good enough for Betty to love me!"

With that, the girl jumped out of bed, dashed out of her room in her nightgown. She sprinted through the front door of the castle and into the garden, with little idea of where she was headed.

Louisa McMahon sank wearily to the floor, tears brimming in her jade-green eyes. The stress of the summer party's events, coupled with the house-elf's unfortunate demise and Catherine's cruel words, shattered her usual composure. She knew their relationship was not good, but if what the girl said was true, she might have been even worse mother than her own.

"Mistress?" – the house-elf Twinkle peeked into the room – "Shall Twinkle take care of old Betty's body? Twinkle can make it disappear, so the young Mistress won't be sad!"

"No!" – Louisa said decisively, standing up and strengthening her wrinkled clothes – "We're going to bury Betty in the garden behind the cherry grove. I want everyone present, including Catherine. Go find where she went."

The Duchess gazed through the window at the fresh summer morning outside, the dew glistening on the grass like tiny diamonds. 'I hope one day, you'll understand how much I love you, my little girl.' – the witch thought sadly as she turned to leave her daughter's bedroom – 'I'll do anything for you, even if it means taking second place to the memory of a house-elf in your heart.'

***

The garden behind the McMahon castle basked in a golden haze, the once-vibrant greenery bearing the scars of a scorching summer. The air shimmered with heat rising from the parched earth. Amidst the fading hues, resilient flowers stubbornly clung to their petals, their colours slightly muted yet still managing to infuse the landscape with pockets of vivid beauty. Bees, their buzzing a bit slowed by the midday heat, continued their diligent work among the blossoms, while butterflies fluttered gracefully through the air.

Under the shadows of cherry trees, the Duke and his family watched as six house-elves swiftly dug a small grave. Edward glanced worriedly at his daughter, who stood beside him in silence. She was dressed entirely in black, her thin frame appearing even more fragile against the mournful attire. Her eyes were red from crying, constantly glancing at the tiny white bundle placed a few metres away.

"Master, we're ready!" – Whisk, the oldest house-elf, announced with a bow.

"Thank you, Whisk!" – Edward responded, wondering how he should proceed with the unusual ceremony Louisa had insisted on performing for their deceased servant. He wasn't entirely sure of the purpose behind it, but he trusted his wife. Therefore, he stepped into the searing heat and cleared his throat.

"Dear family," – he began, closing his eyes for a second – "this is a very sad occasion that has gathered us here today. One of my earliest memories is of Betty was sneaking me apple pie against the order of my mother and punishing herself afterwards. I believe this was the reason one of my first orders upon becoming Head of our House was to forbid all house-elves from punishing themselves. Betty was a model for us all. She was loyal and caring, tirelessly working even when we insisted she rest. Betty was prepared to sacrifice her own life for us, proving it when she used healing magic to save my mother's life after I was born! For a house-elf to use this unique ability it means she truly loves the wizard or witch they heal, to the extent they willingly give up part of their own life for them. We will always remember Betty because we also loved her dearly!"

The Duke used his wand to carefully levitate the house-elf's body into the grave, which was quickly covered by the nearby pile of soil. Edward also conjured a small white stone with golden letters forming the inscription: Here Lies a Loyal Friend.

With a heavy sigh, the wizard turned to his wife and children, only to find Catherine standing among them, her eyes wide with profound horror. Without a word, she abruptly sprinted back to the castle.

"What happened?" – asked Edward, confused.

"She's very upset, mon amour." – Louisa said, embracing her husband – "It's best to leave her alone for a while so she can process her loss."

'You two really don't understand your own daughter.' – thought Greg, shaking his head.