Summer of 1998.

Home, ‘finally’. This was home for him and Mischa no more after tonight. He had rushed home from graduation, intent on wasting no more time. The plan was to get Mischa and her things and get as far away as he could manage. He had enough saved in Gringotts to keep them comfortable for a while, at least until he found a job. ‘This part was hazy at the moment… but, not important. Right now you should concentrate on this, the happiest day of your life. You’re finally helping her!’ he told himself. Giddy, he walked up the steps to the entrance of his uncle’s manor. Unable to contain himself any longer, he burst in and ran up the stairs to Mischa’s room. It was completely empty, but that was to be expected, she knew he was coming after all. He ran back down the stairs and through the rooms leading out to the garden, her favorite spot save her bedroom. Puzzled that he was unable to find her, he started shouting her name out. He re-entered the house and made his way to the sitting room where he found his uncle.

“Where’s Mischa?” he said with a smug tone. “I’ve come to take her away from you.”

"She left.", his uncle replied.

"What do you mean she left? Why? No. She wouldn't DO that. She knew I was coming." Anthony said. 'Why won't he meet my eyes?' Anthony was starting to get worried, he didn't like how this was feeling.

"She's gone, Anthony. What else do you want me to tell you? Her things are gone. She's- she's not coming back," his uncle said defensively.

"What do you mean, gone?” He realized that he didn’t see any of her things anywhere. “How did she take EVERYTHING with her? She's a muggle, she couldn't have done it by herself!" He looked at his uncle closely. "You're lying. You know where she is. Tell me!" he demanded.

His uncle stood. With a shaky and somewhat domineering voice he said, "She was going to tell. She was going to tell them about everything. I couldn't let her. She couldn't tell."

Seeing the look on his uncle's face, he knew. Anthony slowly sank to his knees. "What did you- what did you do?” He looked at the floor, trying to comprehend what was happening. “We were going to leave. We were going to leave you." He took a shuddering breath. Licking his lips he said pleadingly, "Where's Mischa? Where'd you put her? What did you-" he put his head in his hands as his voice failed him.

"She was going to ruin everything. I couldn't let her. She needed to- I couldn't let her." He approached Anthony and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She was going to ruin everything."

Anthony felt his uncle's hand on his shoulder and snapped. He grabbed his uncle's wrist and yanked him to the ground, while he grabbed his uncle's throat. "You've ruined everything! You. Have. Taken. Everything. From. Me." He said each word precisely as he shook with anger. His uncle's arms were beating at him, prying at his hands. "Everything from her. I will kill you for what you've done!"

His uncle slowly came to a stop. Anthony's hands remained around his neck for long after that. Realizing what he'd done he got up quickly. 'Fuck! Where did he put her?' He looked down at his uncle's lifeless form. "Where is she?” he yelled, kicking at the body. He scanned the room thinking somehow he might have missed her. When he didn't find her, he ran throughout the house looking carefully in all the rooms. He stopped at the top of the stairs and before heading back down them turned around. He leaned on the wall tears streaming down his face. "Mischa."

He walked slowly back to her room and knelt on the floor near the window, pausing for a moment. After wiping and massaging his face he looked down. He quickly found the loose floorboard he knew she used to stash stuff in. He pried it open with his fingers and took out the stuff it had hidden. Pictures of him at Hogwarts, of them together at the fair, of her friends from school. The ring their mother had left to her in their will. He rubbed the stones with his thumb, remembering that this was her most prized possession. He shrunk everything he found in the space and put it in his pocket.

After walking downstairs he heard a 'pop'. Millie stood before him in her tattered sack. “I had mine orders, Master! I was doing what Master Goldstein asked. I is not taking any clothes, sir. Master beat me much before. I was trying to help, sir I was!” At this she had fallen to the ground crying and beating at herself. "He sent me away! I not able to help sir! I is not able!" She was clutching at his pants, begging him to forgive her.      

 He pulled his leg from her grip and went to kick her, but stopped. 'This isn't what Mischa would have wanted. She loved the elf.' He lowered his foot, and spoke in a broken voice; "Millie, get off the floor, stop hurting yourself. I know you would have helped if you could." Tearing up again he said, "Do you know where he put her, Millie? Where'd he put her bo-", he cut off. He licked his lips and tried again, "body?"

Millie shook her head sorrowfully. "I is not knowing, sir. I is not knowing." Anthony nodded. "Okay. Let's get out of here, yeah? Why don't you go get all your stuff and meet me outside when you're done?" Millie nodded and hurried to get her things. Anthony went to the basement and found a can of gas. He spread it all over the house and then set the can back downstairs.

Outside, Anthony stared in the dark night. 'When did it get so dark?' he thought numbly while he waited for Millie. When she rushed down the stairs and was by his side he took from his pocket a book of matches he had found in the foyer. It struck him as odd that out of all the times he had told her to stand up to him, that he would be with her, she chose that last day he wouldn’t be here. His sister picked a time when she was alone, defenseless against him, to fight. 'She couldn't have waited one more day? One? I was ready, I was going to be here for her.'

Anthony hated her a little for that. He shook his head, took a deep breath, and lit a match.