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there she was, bright-eyed
and innocent, even after
everything they've been
through, and he knew he
couldn't live without her
in which odessa learns the
reality of who she is and
is introduced to a world
she never realised she
nee...
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THE CHOSEN ONE'S CHOSEN GIRL - BOOK 1 chapter sixteen !
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HARRY and I were silent for the rest of our Hogsmeade trip, when I'd finally found enough courage to leave the bathroom. I knew we were both feeling incredibly nauseous and beyond confused for the rest of the day. We shouldn't have heard that, we shouldn't have. But we did, and my brain was now just overloaded with information I never knew. My moth er was one of Sirius Black's best friends, and she was deaf like Ron had suspected. Why... Why hadn't Dad told me? Surely it was important enough for me, her own daughter, to know that. And if he had hidden that from me, what else had he failed to tell me?
"Odessa, are you okay?" Hermione asked that night softly as we watched the other girls pack to go home for Christmas.
I swallowed and turned my attention towards her. Her big brown eyes were wide with earnestness and concern, and I could've smiled if I wasn't in such a foul mood. My eyes flittered briefly to the photograph Hagrid had given me, gazing at Mum laughing and running off, and I shook my head, watching as Hermione's shoulders slumped.
"I feel like everything I know about her is just... Lies." I croaked. "Like I don't even know her."
She stayed silent but stood up from her bed to sit beside me, to which I immediately laid my head on her shoulder. I saw her smile gently and let the corners of my lips tilt up too. I was glad I had her here with me right now. I needed a friend right now, even if it felt like I wanted to be alone.
"You need to talk to him, Dessa," she whispered, and I stared ahead silently. "Ask him why he's keeping everything about her from you."
I swallowed again. I knew I needed to. But it just wasn't that easy.
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IT wasn't stealing. Technically. Okay, yes, I did sneak into Dad's sleeping quarters while he was in his office, marking essays, and I did dig through his belongings. But I was just borrowing one of his favourite photos that he hadn't put up for one of his Christmas presents, as well as the picture of all three of us because I bought him a new frame for it. As for the photo he had hidden away, I'd taken it from his cupboard just after the full moon in November and consulted Dean into helping me create a new painting based on it. I knew it was incredibly selfish, but he immediately agreed to my idea, and we spent the next two weekends and one more Saturday working on it. I wasn't the best artist, so Dean had suggested that he'd draw it and help me paint the colour and, by the time we finished, it looked amazing. I couldn't wait to give it to him.
