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CHAPTER ONE
the exchange
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AS THE COLD, CRISP AIR FROM the night before slowly started retreating once more, the sun's rays rolled into its place, warming and greeting the Carmichael Manor with a golden hue. But Edmund couldn't think of anything else besides the mural. He stayed up all night thinking about it, thinking about the painting, and the feeling it gave off when he looked at it. After Tomen left his room, going back to his own across the hall, Edmund went to the roof — which is where he would do all of his thinking when he did not want to be disturbed.

The sun warmed his pale skin as he sat comfortably on the angled shingles of the roof, his hands absentmindedly fiddling with his discarded shirt and leather gloves that laid by his side as he looked over the grand estate — feet dangling over the edge. But the usual time he would use up there to just breath and observe was overtaken with thoughts of his bedroom wall and what was still etched onto it. He thought he had this under control. All summer he had been trying to get his sleeping-time-activities under wraps and dormant before school started, and yet, here he was. Painting the biggest mural yet in just a short amount of time before he was to be sent off to school. He didn't know what he would do if he woke up and saw his roommates staring at another disturbing piece painted over their posters and pictures hanging up along the walls with seeming no meaning behind it.

So all night, he sat, and thought, and walked around a bit, then sat some more, and kept repeating the cycle over and over again, getting absolutely nothing in return. And yet he somehow felt hope that any of this could actually help him understand what was happening to him and why. Why he felt terrible and stiff every time he woke up, why he painted on his wall in his sleep, why he shouldn't touch anyone with his hands. His eyes drifted over to the gloves laying next to him, picking them up and examining them with a lazy but interested eye. A sudden urge to throw them as far as he could off the roof appeared, for reasons obvious to Edmund, but he knew, inside, he could never do that. He needed them. They created balance to his life, a safety blanket, if you will. Without them, he wouldn't know how to go about daily life.

The sound of his bedroom window sliding open from behind him drew his attention, but he didn't glance at the person coming to join him, already knowing who it was based off the slow and light footsteps. The window was closed carefully as he felt someone approaching through the vibrations in the roof. Tomen wordlessly sat next to him, his unruly hair was unkept and drifted in front of his eyes constantly, making him flick it up with his head or, what he would usually do, tie just the top half up and out of his eyes — but he refused to get a haircut for some unknown reason. He didn't seem to care that much that morning as he usually did about keeping his hair in a neat style or looking presentable, the fluffy beige comforter wrapped around his neck so that only his face was visible made that clear.

Edmund didn't say anything for a while, but his need to cover up his skin started to make him feel anxious. He reached for his gloves and sweater to hurriedly pull onto his body, but Tomen put his hand out, still covered completely with the blanket, and held his wrist in place.

"You don't have to," he commented, looking at his face, "I'm all covered up. Nothing to worry about."

Tomen could see his brother's face start to change, just like it did every year before he went back to school since his third year. His eyes beginning to darken and sink, the lines of worry starting to form between his eyebrows and on his forehead — it's the same symptoms every time his dreams start becoming more frequent. Actions Edmund did to combat this change was things that didn't really help in Tomen's opinion. Like avoid sleeping or make himself hide all the paint somewhere around the house so a sleep-walking-Edmund can't find it and paint on any surface of the house whenever he decides he wants to draw a picture.

Edmund was already thin, but without his shirt on, Tomen could see his bones starting to become prominent and his skin turning more paper-like than usual. It was the stress, he concluded, he was going to get over this like he always did and get healthy, right? Edmund felt his brother's eyes studying him and felt the need to put on a shirt even more than before, but Tomen saw the restraint, Edmund had been showing a lot of that recently, he noticed. Restraint. Something Edmund usually didn't show to his siblings or nephews or cousins when they would play fight or banter to each other. But Tomen knew the reason behind his efforts in trying to be nicer to him.

Disrupting his thoughts, Edmund lays his sweater across his thighs and patted them. Tomen responded by making sure he put a barrier of the quilt down to separate their skin before laying his head down on his legs — both of them looking out over the large, country estate. The oranges and yellows emitting from the sunrise was mesmerizing as they watched the light reflect off the gold colored grass and glint off an ancient apple tree's bright leaves. It was beautiful, and they didn't need to talk — all the other needed was just time in their company, and silence.

"I know you're scared," Tomen didn't tear his eyes from the sun as he softly continued, "Of going back to school, I mean."

"And why would I be scared?"

"Your mural."

The sentence abruptly paused their conversation, leaving the air to be filled with tension and the subdued sound of bugs lightly humming nearby.

"You don't have to be scared. I don't think anything really bad will happen this year."

"We go to school with Harry Potter, every year someone is almost killed or almost kill somebody else," Edmund joked, earning a few chuckles from Tomen, but they both slowly fizzled out until the tension returned. The brothers remained still for a few moments. Edmund hoped the conversation would somehow be interrupted by his mother or sister to avoid talking about it anymore. It helped him relieve some weight off his shoulder when he talked about his problem but he felt so uneasy and sick whenever he thought about the painting being anymore than the ideas of an unconscious-sleep-deprived teenager to the point he thought he might empty his stomach contents into whatever was nearby : a trash can, a toilet, a decently sized hat. But that didn't stop Tomen.

"If things do go to shit, with the school or...with me..."

"Don't say that. I don't want talk about it, okay?"

It was quiet, he regretted being so sharp with his tone the instant he opened his mouth, but he couldn't take it back now. Edmund took a deep breath as he rubbed his face with slightly trembling hands, leaving them there for a moment until he sighed. Tomen kept his head forward, Edmund could see the emotions threatening to boil over, even if his face was pulled into a blank expression. Tomen broke his gaze from the sun set and instead looked at him — his lips pressed together hard as he tried to block out emotions that he had been pushing off for a while now, Edmund too.

Edmund felt pressure begin to build behind his eyes as he looked at his brother who tried to hide as much of his face in the blanket as he could. But Edmund knew his true reason for the abnormally large blanket. He could see, even through the blanket, on how much of Tomen's muscles have deteriorated already over the summer. His arms thin, much thinner than any fourteen year old's should be, and pale too. His fingers and knuckles popped out prominently, but they weren't skeleton like yet. Edmund could tell that his condition wasn't getting better, it was getting worse.

He watched one tear slip down his face and stain the comforter, and he couldn't sit there and just watch anymore. He is Tomen's big brother, he needed to be there for him. So, without another second to waste, Edmund looked his brother in the eyes and adjusted to he was facing him. He spoke slowly, each word dropping with sincerity and honesty as he told him, "This year, I will make it the best year that Hogwarts has ever seen. So much fun that they will tell future generations of the Carmichael brothers and the adventure the two of us had in this year. Everyone will know about it, and will talk about how the year 1992 was the year that we showed everyone what fun was. Do you trust me?"

Tomen lightly nodded, he was quick to fix his face -- sniffing his nose harshly and wiping his face as he turned away. Edmund could tell that Tomen was comforted, but not relieved.

"That's enough emotions for today, don't you think?" A soft chuckle fell out of Edmund's lips as they two boys broke eye contact, the heavy mood slowly piecing away and a lighter one sliding into it's place. Tomen has never been one to wear his heart on his sleeves, or show his true feelings to anyone but Edmund. But he can count on one hand how many times that has happened in the last couple of years.

"Edmund!"

They heard a loud, strong voice call from inside the house. Both turned around to see their sister, Lottie, leaning out the window with her dark brows knitted together in slight frustration.

"Breakfast is ready," she announced in a more calm voice in comparison to the last one she used, fixing the polka dotted bandana wrapped around her head to keep stray hairs from her face and smoothing out the matching apron. A small cloud of flour bloomed as she dusted her hands off outside the window to avoid having to sweep it up. She looked back at her little brothers, who hadn't moved, but just before she turned around and left, added, "So, hurry up. We don't have all day. We are going into town, remember? All of us."

Edmund has been avoiding saying things around Lottie recently, seeing as everything he said made her agitated and try to scold him like he was one of her kids — which didn't help the bond grow any closer than the state in which it currently sat at. His sister was trying to act like his mother and he wasn't having any of it. He felt as if she should focus more on her own kids, Merlin knows that they are more than a handful.

With a small breath, Edmund reluctantly slid his gloves onto his hands, wiggling his fingers a bit to get them full into their spots before slipping his turtleneck sweater on — despite how hot he was going to be soon. Tomen shifted at the sight of his brother while he covered up his skin as much as possible, making him wrapping the blanket tighter around his slender shoulders as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

The two boys made their way to the window, not wanting Lottie to come back and tell them to come to breakfast in a way that wasn't as nice as the last time. Edmund slipped in first, then helping Tomen by picking him up from under his arms and sitting him down on the seat part of his walker. The normal routine of getting Tomen ready for breakfast was set into motion easily. Set up his walker, sit him down, get a blanket, brush teeth and hair, get dressed, go downstairs. Merlin forbid that they were still in their pajamas at the breakfast table.

As the two of them exited Tomen's room, both dressed in fine, dark dress wear, Edmund was caught off guard when he saw three identical faces looking back at him with mischievous but innocent looks on their faces. Lottie's first set children — she hoping for a girl, but instead she received identical triplet boys : Robin, Kevin, and Kit. The features of the twins were similar to the rest of the family : slender faces with childish full cheeks, dark curly hair with eyes to match, and fair skin. The Carmichaels' signature look.

They were three boys who always had creative ideas, bright minds, and kleptomaniac tendencies. Edmund was glad they still have five more years till their first year at Hogwarts — by that time, he will be long gone and graduated and hopefully moved far away from there.

"Alright, now what did you all do this time?" Tomen asked suspiciously, glancing around the hallway, waiting for something to jump out or explode in their faces. But the triplets just stood there, smiling, their hands clasped in front of themselves.

"You'll find out," Kit, the one in the middle, commented lightly for all of them, none moving from their spots until Lottie called all of them down for breakfast, and she hates repeating herself so all five boys turned to walk out the room. Before they could leave, Edmund announced.

"Whatever it is, it better not stain my new jacket — I just got this last week, so if it gets ruined, you're all dead. Understand?"

The triplets just shiftily glanced at each other before busting out into giggles. The three ran out the room quickly, stumbling like clumsy puppies as they all stuck their feet out every so often to try to trip each other as they went. Not really showing worry — at the moment — about what their young uncle might do later once he finds what they were talking about.

He chased closely behind them, Tomen gripped the handlebars of his Walker tightly so he would fall off as Edmund pushed him as fast as he could while still being safe. The triplets hurried down the dark hallways only illuminated by the sunlight pouring through the windows that lined the walls, glancing behind them every so often to see them being chased still. With the brothers close on their trail, the only escape the triplets found was the stairs. They made a beeline towards the spiral ramp that was beside them — it wasn't too steep to the point Tomen would slip down it when trying to go downstairs, but steep enough for the three boys to drop to their cotton covered bellies and glide down the ramp like a strange slide that was in the center of their house.

Edmund saw them go down it from around the corner, but he skidded to a stop once he heard the triplets' mother's voice, Tomen almost flying out of his seat in the process.

"What are yo-"

"Sh!"

Edmund placed his hand over Tomen's mouth to keep him quiet, listening intently to the sound of Lottie scolding her children after she caught them sliding down their uncle's ramp. He stopped them just in time to not get caught by his sister.

"Edmund..."

Edmund silently winced at the sound of his sister's expecting voice below him, knowing they were caught. He felt his hand suddenly get wet, knowing instantly what it was.

"Did you just lick me?!"

"You put your nasty hand over my lips, what else was I suppose to do?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe, um, NOT lick me?!"

"Boys!"

Tomen and Edmund looked at each other accusingly before they reluctantly have in and looked over the staircase railing. Lottie was staring them down as the triplet looking at them with a guilty but unapologetic expression. Tomen wasn't able to hold back his comment, "You know snitches end up in ditches, don't you?"

Lottie cut him off, "Breakfast. Now."

Tomen and Edmund looked at each other with the same look. After she walked away, the kids followed behind her, already giggling and planning starting more trouble. Hesitantly, but nevertheless, they went down the ramp and entered the kitchen. Lottie had already started setting the table while the rest of the family were seated. Tomen was the one who never let the family keep house elves. Every time the family got a new one, he would give it a set of clothes and send it to live at the family's log cabin in some remote part of who-knows-where that they never go visit. There were already elves living their, taking care of the house, so it slowly turned into a place where all of the Carmichael's house elves lived freely.

Not such great news to Lottie, all the chores were passed down to her, seeing as their parents wouldn't dare pick up a mop, much less cook their own food. The triplets couldn't, Tomen definitely couldn't, and Lottie's husband was useless with doing anything physical. Atlas Crowington, the man who swept the darling of Hogwarts off her feet, or so everyone believes.

One look at the man could tell you everything you need to know about him, but maybe Edmund was just more perceptive than most. The grey hairs lining his hair and scruff, the wrinkles, the layer of flab that comes with retirement already starting to appear along his body -- on the contrary, Lottie's hair was dark and bouncy, not a wrinkle in sight, toned and slim body. He was so much older than her, and wealthy. But that didn't matter as long as she was happy, right?

Edmund took a seat in the center of one side of their long dinner table, Tomen to his left and his sister and her husband to his right. His parents on each head of the table, the triplets and his grandma, Elaine, sat across from himself. As soon as he entered the room, Edmund felt his face slipping into a frown, his eyes shifted to stare at the empty plate and perfectly arranged silverware in front of him as the silence in the room became evident. Edmund heard the newspaper in his father's hands being sat down on the table, folded perfectly in half and placed carefully under his coffee cup. Johnathon Carmichael was the only one not looking down, but instead looking around the table.

The silence in the room was suffocating, Edmund felt his chest tighten as his father bored holes into all of their side profiles, almost daring them to look up and say something. No one did, they all sat with their hands in their laps or on the table. Jonathan didn't say a word, but instead he reached over and started to pile food onto his plate.

That was the cue that everyone could start eating now and Edmund first to start. Reaching for Tomen's plate, he asked in a light tone what he would like. Tomen pointed out various food items with high protein and fruits, like his doctor suggested. It's the first time he had actually listened to someone when they told him what to eat in a while. But Edmund wasn't complaining as he piled on scrambled eggs and raspberries.

The rest of the breakfast was relatively the same as it always was, quiet, except for the sounds of forks and knives scrapping against porcelain. The occasional cough from Grandma Elaine could be heard along with sneezes from Atlas, who constantly had a runny nose, it seemed.

It stayed that way until Jonathan, not looking up from the sausage he was cutting, asked in a loud, calm tone, "How did everyone sleep?"

Everyone mumbled a response, to which he replied with 'good'. But Edmund felt if he had actually said he didn't get any sleep and stayed on the roof the whole night he would've responded the exact same way. He glanced up at his mother, Joslyn, who sat wordlessly, picking at her sparse plate, mostly just moving it around her plate. It wasn't anything new. She had been struggling with sickness for a while now that no one could exactly pinpoint what it was, but she has always been a very frail woman.

Atlas spoke for the first time that morning, "Did anyone hear what happened at the Quidditch World Cup?"

No one said anything. So he continued.

"They said something crazy happened—"

"Oh, no one wants to hear about some brutish sport, Atlas!" Lottie complained, "Not one member in this family is interested in those sort of things."

Edmund frowned at her quick dismissal, curious about what happened, who won the match. He was always interested in Quidditch, so he asked, "What happened?"

"I wasn't going to go on about the match, Lottie. Apparently, after it was over, it was attacked by deatheaters," Atlas paused when he heard a fork clatter onto a plate.

Everyone looked down sharply at the sound of Jonathan harshly dropped his knife onto his plate. His hands trembled as he tried to suppress his anger. Edmund felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach, his shirt feeling more clingy than usual. He didn't bother trying to fix it as he tried to sort through the thousands of thoughts running through his head, not sure what the news truly meant to them, but knowing the possibilities.

"How do you know about it? What happened? Did anyone get hurt?" Tomen asked in a soft voice, concerned.

That was the moment Edmund realized how many people he knew from school that went to the World Cup and the danger that they might've been in. Edmund watched as his father's patience was wearing thin.

"I have a friend inside the ministry—," Atlas explained, making Lottie shoot him a side glance that said that they were definitely going to talk about that later, "—and apparently the Dark Mark was contoured in the clouds over everything, the muggle caretakers were boasted in the air, turned in all sorts of ways to humiliate them."

"That's enough!" Jonathon voice cracked as he shouted, making the table shake when his arms hit it. His lip trembled as the lines in his forehead became more and more prominent, his grey hairs suddenly more visible. He held his finger in front of him with his elbow resting on the table, "We don't speak of him, ever in this household. Ever."

He was cut off by Joslyn standing up abruptly, her chair scrapping the floor noisily and her body bumping the table — making all the items on top of of it rattle and catch everyone's attention. Edmund's mother avoided everyone's eyes as she left the room hastily, her heels clicking all the way to her bedroom, where the door slammed shut. With a loud exhale, Johnathon stood from the table. Placing his napkin that was resting on his lap on the table and pushing in his and his wife's chair before following where Joslyn went, mumbling something no one could hear but himself.

"Um," Tomen announced as he cleared his throat, "I would like to be excused."

"Me too," Edmund agreed, pushing in his chair as he pushed Tomen out of the room as quick as possible. Just a normal family breakfast.

After thirty minutes of time alone and to get ready, everyone calmed down significantly. Everyone had time to think to themselves of what the news meant to the family and to each them personally, no one speaking to each other, but instead keeping it to themselves as they did the final touches of their looks. When Edmund came downstairs once more, he saw everyone in their best outing wear — everyone in dark, wrinkle-free silk suits or dresses, brown, curly hair styled to perfection, and shoes polished so much that he could see his reflection in them.

Of course, he had kept a stray curl that didn't seem to want to go anywhere but the center of his forehead alone. It had been that way since he was a baby and no matter the amount of hair gel he put in, it could never keep that curl parted with them rest. His mother was convicted he was doing it on purpose and frowned when she saw it sitting on his forehead, as if it was designed just to mock her. But Edmund just adjusted his gloves and got into the line.

"You excited to go to Diagon Alley?" he asked the triplets, knowing it was one of their favorite places to be because it was full of magic, treats, and laughs. A place they could run away from their mother for a significant amount of time and convince their father to spend an unnecessary amounts of money on sweets and toys just for them. The triplets laughed and nodded in response, as expected, whispering to each other things they planned to do once their were there.

"Alright, everyone grab a handful of powder, we are taking the Floo network this year," Lottie commented as she put the large bucket full of the powder by the fireplace.

Edmund didn't have a problem going through this way, but it was always scary to see Tomen go through, afraid his walker would separate from him during the journey and he would be hopeless when he came out the other side, but every time so far they had been successful.

His slender hands barely picked up any of the darkly colored sand, all of it gliding through the cracks between his fingers and spilling back into the bucket. He looked at it for a while, just letting it pour from hand to hand. But when he looked up, he saw most of his family had already traveled through the fireplace, that just left him and his father alone in the house. Jonathon looked back at him with a stone-like face, his shouldered squared and straight as he led him towards the fire.

"Remember to smile when you arrive. Go on," he instructed monotoned, "Wouldn't want to miss out on all the fun, hm?"

He thought about what the definition of fun meant to his father, considering he had never truly seen him laugh in a genuine way. He wondered if he thought he was having fun, or if he really didn't know what it meant.

Edmund remained stiff as Jonathan fixed his own suit and hair. When he felt he looked presentable, he took a step forward. When he met the dark eyes of his eldest son, who stared at him with an unreadable look, as he usually does, he didn't let his face falter, but instead, instructed Edmund to, "Smile."

"Give me a reason to and maybe I will."

And before he could say anything else, he was gone.

A/N:
So does anyone have any ideas on why Edmund wears gloves? ;)

Anyways, so Edmund's brother, Tomen, has a type of ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) called Lou Gehrig's disease. This is a nervous system disease that weakens muscles and impacts physical function. In this disease, nerve cells break down, which reduces functionality in the muscles they supply. The cause is unknown and is rare. Treatment can help but the condition can't be cured. This explains his walker and his weak thin muscles.

If there is anything else that is confusing just ask and I'll get back to you as quick as possible!