Chapter Text
Rhiannon: All of the Influence with None of the Magic
Part 4 of the Dovermann Saga
Written and Investigated by Crater LaVogle
It has been said throughout the centuries that no squib could rise to power in the Ministry of Magic, yet as of exactly one year ago, all that has changed. In the Dovermann series we’ve delved into the three youngest children of the Dovermann family, one of the most prominent figures in the magic world. Today, we’ve interviewed the second oldest child in the family, the most influential Rhiannon Dovermann.
At just 20 years old, Rhiannon has risen the ranks in the ministry of magic thanks to her father’s teachings in the ways of business. Born the first squib of her family, Rhiannon never got to attend Hogwarts, but instead her parents took the opportunity to educate her about the magic world, about how her family’s history has laid the foundation for a connected magic world, and where she will be able to help out. She studied business and economics at the muggle university, Oxford, and soon after became co-chief of the International Magical Trading department at the ministry of magic. When I interviewed her for this section, she was bubbly, humble, and just the right amount of spunk you want in a leader.
“I wouldn’t say my career has been all that remarkable,” she recounted, “I’ve always been hard at work, trying to live up to my family’s name. Though I have to say, my parents never saw me as a squib, they saw me only as their daughter.”
“So your parents were always supportive of your decision to still be a part of the magical world?”
“Oh absolutely! My parents supported whatever I chose to pursue in life. They were always kind and never pushed me to do anything besides what I loved. I love the magic world, and even without magic I still wanted to try my hardest to contribute to it as much as possible.”
“You’ve become somewhat of an activist for squibs over the years. You became the first non-magic person to get a head position at the ministry of magic, and the creator of the non-profit organization, ‘Squib Society’, that helps squibs find a place in the magic world. Is there anything you can’t do?”
Rhiannon laughed humorously at my question. “Magic.”
In her department, Rhiannon is very well liked by her staff members and makes sure each person is never overworked or stressed. In fact, the International Magical Trading department has the highest approval and happiness out of the entirety of the ministry of magic.
“She represents the best of us,” her co-head, Magnus O’Laurey, commented, “She's the most hard-working and passionate person I know.”
Rhiannon, as previously mentioned, is the creator and founder of Squib Society, a non-profit to help squibs find employment and security in the wizarding world. Thanks to her, the unemployment within the squib population in both the UK and France have dropped by 40% and the crime against squibs have dropped over 50% in the last two years. The organization continues to perform good work for both the squib and magic worlds.
I asked her if she ever wished she ever went to Hogwarts yourself like her sister. Her answer surprised me.
“No.” She was very confident in how she answered. “I don’t think I would have the same ambition if I also possessed magic.”
When asked about the Dovermann series, she was quick to comment on my thorough research on her siblings and parents. She finds it wonderful how her family is finally being shown for what they are. Yet when asked about her older sister, she chuckled to herself softly, and mentioned how she hasn't heard from her sister after she went to prison.
She wished me luck on finding Adnara in the near future for a final interview in this Dovermann series.
Adni snorted as she read the last line, taking a puff out of her pipe as she did so. She felt the THC take into effect as her mind became slightly foggy, just what she needed. The wind caressed her warm cheeks as she looked out into the misty landscape. Green hills rolled out over the low rain filled clouds with a dark pebbled road traveling out between the curves of nature. The air was crisp with moisture. Adni smiled as she looked out at the view she worked so hard to obtain. It truly was beautiful in her eyes. She was very thankful with where she ended up.
The newspaper was pushed to the side of her dinky wooden coffee table, right next to her dark brown wand. The wood smelled of firm willow, with the delicate hair of a manticore sitting at its center. Adni took a few more breaths of marijuana before sitting up from her chair.
Today was chilly like a low fog. She put on her big puffer jacket and clipped on her leather gloves. She brought her old but durable toolbox outside into the freezing Iceland fall. Her sheep’s pens needed repairs before winter eventually came. She went up to their gate and opened it. One by one, little furry white heads looked up to see Adni opening and closing their gate. All twelve of her sheep came running after her. They baahed loudly and were eager to get her attention. She greeted each one by name, proudly patting them on the heads before going up to the metal gates that needed to be fixed. This was her routine, and she loved it more than anything.
It then became noon. She finished up most of her pen repairs when she heard a familiar whoosh from outside the gate. Adni froze. It felt like an eternity since she heard that sound ring through her ears. She cursed under her breath, and turned to face a tall black man in a long navy trench coat. He wore a black fedora, decorated with two phoenix feathers. The style he presented was lavish. She could tell he came from money. Lots of money
“It took a while to track down where you were.”
Adni smirked at the man. He was tall, lean like a decorated pillar, with a clean shaven face and dim black eyes. Swiftly, he took off his fedora to reveal black cornrows braids. “I did that on purpose, you know,” she replied.
She picked up her toolbox and walked towards the man. It was at that moment she realized she was a foot shorter than him, even in the coated winter boots she was trekking in. Yet when she approached him, he was the one to flinch back, instinctively pulling out his wand when doing so.
Adni paused. She should've seen this coming. Slowly, she raised up her hands in a form of surrender. “I don’t carry my wand with me anymore,” she promised, looking down at her feet, “You’re fine.”
The man realized what he did and put his wand back in his coat pocket. He pushed his hat and held it to his chest, bowing slightly. “My apologies, Miss Dovermann. That was inappropriate of me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just call me Adni. I find the name of my family repulsive.”
Adni led the man into her small and cozy little home. The outside of her cottage contained a worn down coat of light green paint that peeled off on the edges. Same went with the white trim, each was due for a new layer of paint. Once inside, the man took a minute to look around at the decorations. It was minimal, enough to get by comfortably. A bricked fireplace with two cozy chairs encircling it. Fuzzy blankets hung loosely over the cushions. The place was surprisingly warm and welcoming. He cleared his throat, putting his hat on the nearby coat rack. Adni could tell he was frazzled to be in her presence. Anyone would be. She put her palms against her ornate teapot, immediately boiling the water to pour some tea. “I hope you like earl gray,” she mentioned, “It’s the only one I like in these parts.”
“Thank you,” the man said, “I hope I’m not intruding on anything.”
Adni snorted. “Please, it’s not like I have visitors often.” She chuckled to herself at her own comment. The warm orange tea was stirred in the mugs with a wave of her finger. Both silver spoons soon flew to the sink. “Feel free to sit down, the tea should be ready shortly.”
The man took a comfortable seat in her dark green reading chair, putting his black briefcase to the side. He opened both ends with a click and pulled out his wand from his trenchcoat pocket. Pieces of paper flew out and traveled close to his proximity. Three papers shuffled with a flick of his wrist, organizing them in proper order. His wand swiped once more and one of the phoenix feathers flew off his hat towards the paper. As he got comfortable in the chair, he noticed his newspaper entry about Rhiannon on the small wooden coffee table.
“What did you think about your siblings’ entries?” Crater asked, smiling at the site of his name.
Adni unintentionally snorted, bringing over the teas. “Horse shit, that’s what I think. I thought Laila’s article was off the rails, but then I read Rhi’s and I was like wow, my parents did a great job at brainwashing them.”
She placed both mugs on the center coffee table before sitting in the maroon lounge chair next to Crater. He raised his eyebrow while the phoenix feather wrote down some notes. Her tone of voice was blunt, as if any other reason was false. Adni raised her hand, guiding her handcrafted wooden pipe to her outstretched hand. She lit the freshly packed bowl once again with her index finger before breathing in a bit of smoke.
“I suppose I should up my investigative journalism in the future then,” Crater commented. He nodded his head in understanding. However, Adni wasn’t finished with her criticism.
“What you should’ve asked Rhi was what she thinks about being a co-chief instead of a full on chief of the trading department. It’s the only section in the Ministry of Magic that has two leaders, yet is one of the smaller departments.” Adni took a sip of her tea before continuing. “Not to mention the other co-chief has way less experience than her, yet comes from an equally known magical family. What I think you should’ve done is go deeper, because if I know anything about Rhi, she’s very good at acting.”
Crater’s lips thinned before he gave a small nod. “I’ll make sure to ask that in the future.” To show some courtesy, he took a sip of the tea. “So you know why I’m here then.”
“Yes, and you will probably know my answers,” Adni responded, “If you want to ask better questions, go deeper.”
He chuckled. “I will, but first you need to hear the surface level statement. I promise I’ll ask good questions later on.”
She nodded in understanding, smiling slightly. She took a long hit of her pipe as a paper drifted to his hand. “So you are Adnara Dovermann, the eldest child of the prestigious Dovermann family.” Adni chuckled after the word prestigious, but Crater continued. “Yet, you were expelled from Hogwarts, arrested by the Ministry of Magic for quote, ‘the continuous use of unforgivable curses’. After a settlement, you spent a year in Azkhaban and haven’t been a part of the wizarding world since.” He leaned forward in his chair. “How close did I get?”
Adni smiled playfully, the smoke she blew out of her nose danced in the still air. “Like I said, very surface level.”
Crater smirked. “Just you wait. After you were arrested, your parents, Grus and Kanza Dovermann, publicly denounced you as a member of their family. After they did this, do you wish your parents took the time to understand your actions?”
Adni took another puff. “Impressive Mr. LaVogle. Not a bad question to start with.”
He smiled, leaning back to get more comfortable in his seat.
She began her story with a deep exhale of smoke. “I supposed in the moment I expected at least one question. Yet they said nothing. When they gave me no support, I realized I was truly on my own.” Adni sighed briefly. “To be fair, I didn’t expect much from them to begin with. Though, when I was at the most vulnerable moment of my life, they refused to be there for me. I realized those people never saw me as their child in the first place.”
Crater raised his eyebrow. More notes were quickly written down. “Why do you say that?”
“Well,” Adni sighed as she began the story, “Grus always wanted a son to take over his legacy. So much so that he went to a fortune teller when he was married to ask if he’ll have a powerful son to carry the family name. The fortune teller told him two things. One, his first child will have so much magical power that it’ll offset the ‘Dovermann curse’. And two, if a son were to come into their lives, he would be the spitting image of Grus. Now as you imagine, that excited him. At least for a little bit before I turned out to be a girl. Now I don’t know if it was my intuition or my power, but I could see those people for who they were. And I promise you not once did they look at me like I was their daughter.” She breathed in another puff. “If you’re wondering why they have so many kids, it’s because Grus was so unbelievably desperate for a boy.” She held up Four fingers. “Four daughters. It took four daughters before he got his son, and he turned out to be a squib.” Adni chuckled to herself.
The phoenix pen quickly wrote down more notes as Crater crossed his arms, deep in thought. He didn't think it was real. He's only ever heard rumors. “So the Dovermann curse is real then,” he sighed, “Can you explain to me how it works?”
Adni nodded. “Oh yeah,” she snorted, “Throughout the centuries, the Dovermann family has had a curiously high number of squibs in the family, about 20% throughout the 400 years of our recorded history. From what I could research, this brought great shame to our history. That’s why two of my five siblings are squibs.”
“And I imagine your parents had that same resentment towards your siblings, Rhiannon and Malik?”
“Not in the way you think,” Adni smoked, “They used Rhiannon’s insecurity to push her into their business, convincing her she could be nothing important if she wasn’t going to be a part of the Ministry of Magic. I saw it with my own eyes growing up. I imagine they’d do the same to Malik once he’s old enough, but to a much stronger degree.” She blew out white circles of clouds. “He’s the son after all.”
“But your mother, Kanza, is pregnant again. With a boy this time.”
The world fell still for a moment.
Adni felt herself freeze in place. It felt like she got punched in the chest with this information. She closed her eyes and looked away briefly. It couldn't be. She looked at Crater with worried eyes. His eyebrows raised, curious at her expression. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.
Crater remained quiet, but took a quick note of her reaction. She seemed slightly shaken. “I’m sorry, let’s move on.” He shuffled through his questions, trying to figure out which one to ask next, until she noticed her pipe. The pattern etched into the wood was so beautifully decorated. Small flowers and pointed leaves were engraved in an elegant design, all stems gathering at the center of the bowl. “Can I ask why you smoke marijuana?”
Adni looked down at her pipe, smirking a bit. “It dulls my magic to a manageable degree.” She raised her hand to let the pipe float in to show its beauty. The pipe fell back down to her hand. “My magic is so powerful that it sometimes can be too much to handle. The marijuana helps with that problem.” She took a large inhale of smoke before exhaling a large white cloud. The cloud morphed into a long flower, starting at the bottom before opening its petals and blooming into a puff of smoke. “I grow some of my own if you want any.”
Crater chuckled. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer a little later.” He was relieved when he brightened the mood in the room. “Let’s get back to the topic of your siblings. Do you ever miss them now that you left the wizarding world?”
“I mean, of course,” she smiled slightly, looking off into the nearby window, “They're my baby siblings after all. I always worry for them, hoping they're growing up into amazing people. I love them to death really.” She took the pipe and waved it to the small wooden table. She softly smiled at herself as she gazed into the overlooking green hills. “Rhiannon and Khadija were always so curious about everything, Laila wanted to take care of every little creature, and Malik…Oh all Malik wanted to do was listen to you read to him.”
Adni turned towards Crater. She was reminiscent, and it shined in her smile. “They were the sweetest siblings I could ask for.” Her eyes glittered. “I miss nothing from the wizarding world except for them.”
Crater glanced at his notes briefly. “I didn't think you would say as much as you have,” he admitted, “I mean, everyone I talked to warned me I would get no information.”
Adni chuckled. “No one has tried as hard as you to find me.”
He smiled to himself, proud of the research he has done to find her. It was then he made sure to note the way she presents herself. Crater finds that you can understand a lot about a person from how they dress and accessories themselves. Adni presented herself warmly. Her black hair was lightly layered in a shaggy mullet, the curled ends tufting towards her round face. She wore a plain worn down T-shirt, under that of which she was covered in Mandela patterned tattoos. They started at her neck and traveled down to her fingers. Though she was wearing baggy cargo pants and snow boots, he guessed she was covered in tattoos from head to toe. Though short, her confidence made her feel bigger, more courageous.
“I took that as a compliment then, Adni,” Crater smiled, “If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened in the settlement agreement when you were convicted? I searched through files and files in the Ministry of Magic archives, but it seems that none of the records have been released to the public.”
Adni looked at him carefully. She studied him for some time. “If I tell you, you'd be knowing something only six people know is the truth. Because of this, I cannot tell you the full story.”
Crater raised his eyebrows in concern. “You mean you agreed to a binding magical contract?”
She sighed. “It was either that or they'd execute me. But that doesn't mean I haven't been trying to lead people to the truth. I've just never had an opportunity like this until now.”
“And if you die?”
Adni gazed her head towards the now drizzling weather. She was lucky, but something tugged at her heartstrings to help someone expose the truth. She knew why. The truth was bigger than her life, and when she agreed to the contract she understood that. Her life has been a cruel one, so she might as well try to help people in the future.
“It'll be worth it,” she sighed.
The two wizards talked throughout the next hour, not as strangers but as now friendly acquaintances. When the clock struck 6pm, Adni walked Crater to her wooden door. The sound of rain poured into the small cottage.
“Thank you for your time, Adni,” Crater mentioned, “The article should be out by the end of the week.”
“And thank you for visiting, Crater. I'll make sure to read it.” They both looked out into the rain when she hesitated.
“Find Jiya Gupta.”
He turned towards Adni, processing the information. She knew he might be her last hope.
“Find Jiya Gupta on Forest Drive in Bristol,” she clarified.
Crater understood the information he received. This was quickly noted in his head before he nodded and teleported away.
Adni sighed to herself. This was the start of something that'll change her life, and she knew it.
Today began like any day in the Dovermann household, with Kanza carefully praying Fajr just as the morning sun was just coming over the purple horizon. She already performed her Wudu, prayed two Sunnah rakats, and one of two Fard rakats. Such as every night, she prepared for Fajr last night until she fell asleep, and woke up without complaint to perform the prayer. Though Kanza was around six months pregnant and has experienced months long nausea and joint pain, she was diligent to always perform her prayers on time without excuse. Even in her spare time, when she was cramping and throwing up in the toilet, she would recite the Ayat al-Kursi for protection over her and the baby. This has happened so frequently it became a habit for her. Especially with this pregnancy, she prioritized religious faith over everything else to ensure a safe labor for both her and the baby boy.
Kanza was beyond excited when she and Grus got the news that their sixth baby was a boy. Afterwards, she cried the whole way on the way home, thanking Allah under her breath whenever she had time to breathe. Grus would often show little emotion, but that day all he did was smile and laugh. It filled Kanza's heart with everlasting love.
She finished her prayers and rolled up her traditional red prayer rug just as Grus was waking up for the day. The sun was just beginning to peak over the gated community they called home, beams of light bouncing off the roof of massive solar panels.
“Sabah al-khayr, my love,” Kanza greeted.
“Sabah al-nur,” he replied, half awake.
Kanza allowed her husband to get ready for the morning and walked out of their shared room. She walked along the plain, beige walls until she reached the fourth room to her right. Slowly but swiftly, she opened the door to find her youngest child, Malik, still sound asleep.
She sat beside her son and lifted his black hair to kiss his forehead. *Sabah al-khayr, my son.”
Malik yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Sabah al-nur, mama,” he replied in a near whisper.
Kanza smiled gently. Once he was awake, she picked out the clothes he would wear today and brushed out his hair while he sleepily brushed his teeth. As far as sons go, Malik was quiet and well mannered. He's never raised his voice, and prefers to remain independent when participating in his little hobbies. But above all else, he loves to read. He especially loves fantasy series that often express a completely different world from his own. Though magic does exist in his sphere of influence, he's more interested in learning about different magical systems in books. The possibility of different magic excited him, even if he himself was incapable of performing any magic on his own.
His mother finished preparing his hair and took his hand to walk down into the kitchen for breakfast. Already preparing breakfast was their house elf, Rudy, who was waving his long nailed finger in the air to cook up an English breakfast.
“Good morning, Rudy,” Malik greeted in his soft voice.
“Good morning, young master,” Rudy greeted him. He was a young elf that possessed a high pitch voice, and like Malik, preferred to keep to himself. He was uncontrollably shy around guests, but he was very loyal to the Dovermann household.
Malik sat down next to his mother to eat breakfast with her. He started to eat while Kanza spoke a quick prayer before joining him. It's always after breakfast that the mother and son split up until dinnertime.
Ever since Kanza found out she was pregnant with her sixth child, she made it her mission to do everything in her power to have a successful pregnancy. Growing up in a muggle family from Kuwait, she's been following the practices of Islam ever since she could remember. To have a secure life for every challenge she faced, she was taught to follow praying like it was clockwork. Even when she went to Trollmannsvei School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she never missed a prayer. So when she was finally blessed with another son, Kanza made sure to dedicate her entire day to devotion, even if it means she doesn’t care for her son throughout the rest of the day. Malik didn’t mind this however. To him, his mother is just doing a routine that brings her comfort, and he had no issue in that. He prefers to spend time on his own anyways.
After breakfast, the mother and son separated for the day. Kanza walked off to her reading nook to read her Quran while Malik went up to his sister’s room. At this point, Grus apparated to the Ministry of Magic for the day and won’t be back until dinner. This leaves only Kanza, Malik, Rudy, and soon their maid, Rosa, to inhabit the massive modern beige mansion.
It became routine for Malik to spend time in his sisters’, Laila and Khadija, room ever since Hogwarts schooling started a month ago. Though most of their belongings are gone, some beautiful trinkets remain. Khadija left her various light and flowy shaylas she only wears on special occasions. Laila left some expensive jewelry and makeup that she had left on her desk. He would go into each room and carefully fumble with their possessions, making sure not to break or tear any of them.
It was on that very day Malik entered Khadija’s near empty room to find her shaylas. Her room was nearly barren, all that remained in sight was her stack of study guides to muggle magic, what they called science. The books ranged from biology to chemistry to geology and basic machine design. Before she entered her first year of Hogwarts, Khadija would eagerly go to Malik with these books and explain what she learned, even when Malik had no concept of what she was saying. She was, admittedly, slightly disappointed when she had to go to Hogwarts and leave her science books, but she made sure to sneak some of her little devices and books with her. Malik misses her greatly. She was an amazing sister when she was home. Yet, he knew Laila would take care of her and make sure she was safe.
Malik opened the plain white closet to find all of Khadija’s most formal shaylas. They were beautiful, embroidered and jeweled pieces of fabric that came in pink, white, black, and red. His favorite was the red shayla. The piece of fabric was outlined in gold beads and detailed in vines that shimmered from golden string. This shayla was a gift from Kanza’s family for Khadija for her tenth birthday, yet Khadija never had an occasion to wear it for. To Malik, it was one of the most beautiful fabrics he’s seen in his life. All he would do was carefully lay out the shayla and trace the patterns of gold vines with his finger. This routine brought him great comfort.
This day was different though.
Malik laid out the shayla carefully on the floor as usual and began to trace the vines with his fingers. He loved the feeling of detailed embroidery, wondering the kind of craftsmanship it took to create such a magnificent piece of fabric. Once he outlined the entire piece of art, he looked to his right to find a family picture of his family. It was of the six of them, with the four children sitting in the foreground of the picture and Grus and Kanza in the top back. In that picture, he noticed Khadija was wearing her special white shayla that was currently hanging in her closet. Malik glanced at the picture, then looked back down at the red shayla.
Without much thinking, he carefully put her shayla on his head. The fabric was soft and comfortable against his skin. He studied the family picture to see how Khadija laid out her shayla on her head. He did his best to mimic the folds of fabric, having to redo the folds a couple of times before the shayla finally laid securely on his head. Malik found himself becoming nervous, imagining what his mother might do if she saw him like this. He nervously touched the edge of the shayla beads until he got himself to calm down. He knew Kanza wouldn’t come looking for him, she had other important matters. After some self assurance, he turned to find Khadija’s mirror in the corner to find his reflection.
Malik felt his chest fill with a sense of warmness.
His black eyes grew wide and shined as he saw himself in the mirror wearing the red shayla. He admired how his pitch black hair peaked out and brushed to the side, and how much he looked like his sister, Laila. Both him and Laila inherited the bold aquiline nose that made Laila look like a noble woman, and now Malik noticed how similar he looked to such an image. His grip on the shayla loosened. He felt so beautiful wearing it.
Noise of footsteps came from behind him. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly took off the headpiece and hung it back in the closet just as the maid, Rosa, entered the room.
She sighed when she found him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Cariño. And your hair is such a mess.”
Rosa kneeled down and fixed Malik’s hair efficiently before taking his hand and guiding him out of the room. He briefly looked back at Khadija’s room. As he did this, he caught a quick glance of himself in the mirror again. He didn’t recognize himself after he wore the shayla. All he saw in the reflection was a boy, but it wasn’t him. His heart sank in his chest.
Though Rosa was only considered under her job description as a house maid, she also took on the extra role of caring for and looking after Malik. When she was hired a few years ago and noticed how he spent nearly all his time by himself, she made sure to care and provide activities for him. She is the reason he loves reading. She would bring her son’s picture books from home and read them to Malik before he took his then afternoon naps. And from there he learned the wonders of storytelling.
Rosa brought him downstairs where her son, Jesús, was waiting for them. Jesús was Malik’s age and was the only person Malik could call a friend. When Rosa struggled to get a babysitter, she started bringing Jesús to the house to watch over him and make sure he was alright. Though he was shy, Malik found the courage to go up to him and ask him to play outside. He agreed and the two of them have been close friends ever since. “Jesús has been asking about you nonstop,” Rosa mentioned, “All he said last night was ‘mamà, can we go see Malik now?’, and I kept saying, ‘no mijo, we’ll see him tomorrow,’, but you know him, Cariño, he is relentless with questioning.”
Jesús excitedly hugged Malik and took his hand to go play outside. They played their favorite game, soccer, while Rosa went around the house to tidy up. Rudy would make both of the boys lunch, usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and they would sit outside on the grass to eat. Jesús would break up little pieces of bread and toss them to the nearby ants. He would get up close, and observe how the ants would work together to transport the crumb of bread back to their home. He would giggle, and make commentary to Malik on what he thinks each ant was saying. For a child, he knew how to make someone laugh easily. He would make jokes in different voices to refer to different ants, which would often make Malik laugh until his chest hurt. Jesús was clever with his jokes, and would always be able to make a joke of any situation, no matter how serious the situation might be. Every so often, Rosa would quickly peak outside, only to see the two boys still happily playing in the grass. She would smile, and wave her wand to move on to the next cleaning task. Once the sun came down, it was time for Malik and Rosa to leave for home.
Jesús hugged Malik tightly. “Thank you for playing with me today,” he smiled.
Malik smiled and hugged him back. It wasn’t until Rosa pulled her son out of the hug that the two boys split off. The boys waved goodbye to each other.
It was dinner, and though Grus often accompanies his wife and son for the meal, he was not there on that particular day. His absence made Kanza anxious, finding herself uncontrollably tapping her foot for minutes on end. She and Malik sat in silence. Malik kept glancing at his father’s chair where his meal had now turned cold. Grus was known for being a strict man with a strict schedule. It is very unlike him to deviate from his set schedule, and everyone in the household knew it.
It soon became bedtime for her son, so Kanza brought Malik up to his bedroom. He felt her shaking beside him. Her lip kept twitching as she made quick glances to the main corridor, but Grus could not be seen. It wasn’t until the mother and son pair reached the top of the steps that a familiar whoosh could be heard near the front entrance.
Kanza quickly turned around to see Grus standing in the corridor. It was an understatement to say he was a scary man. He was tall, having a sharp brow bone where bushy, expressive eyebrows sat. His eyes were like that of wolves, focused and ready to attack. His long black beard that was usually kept in clean condition was now wild and unkept. Though he woke up this morning, the bags under his eyes made him appear that he had been awake for days. His button down was untucked and his tie was loosened. He looked like a wreck.
“Go to bed, Malik,” Grus ordered, “I need to talk with your mother.”
Kanza motioned her son in the direction of his room before going as fast as she could down the stairs. She didn’t look back to see if he went to his room, so Malik circled around and crouched behind a corner to be just in earshot. He peaked around the corner to see his parents hugging each other, his mother very relieved. She looked distressed, and could hear her asking several questions.
He could see the look on Grus’s face turn grim. His frown was more prominent than usual. He held Kanza’s hand to calm her down. Her hands were shaking, so he gripped them softly. He looked down at her, slightly scared.
“China declared war on the United States,” he explained, “I was waiting in the ministry until we got the news.”
Kanza covered her mouth in shock. It wasn’t long before she began to cry. Grus gently put his hand on her back and pulled her into a soft hug. Her cries grew louder as Malik began to feel worried. He didn’t understand what his dad said, but whatever it was seemed to rattle the two of them. It hurt to see his mom scared as he began to unintentionally tear up. Malik couldn't bear to stay for much longer without being heard. He crawled on his hands and knees to his room, wiping his eyes from watching his mom cry. He didn't want to ask what he heard, and instead preferred to keep quiet.
Such as his situation with Khadija’s Shayla, he would prefer to keep this discovery to himself.