-DISCONTINUED-
After the Triwizard Tournament, Hazel Potter goes through an early inheritance brought on by now being considered an adult through the tournament. Through this, she learns secrets Dumbledore never intended for her to know and she vows...
Hyacinth sat alone in a tea room reserved for when Narcissa had hosted guests. The room was tasteful and comfortable, but Hyacinth found herself on edge. She had been ushered into the room soon after the ritual was over, her mother, Draco, and Lucius rushing to her father's side. At the same time, Bella swooped her out of the ritual room, up into the main foyer of the manor and into the room she sat in now, where she had remained for the past two hours.
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Truly she only knew she had been there for two hours due to her continuous and constant tempest spells; it was with a belated shock that she realised she was still barefoot in her ritual clothing. With a sigh, she pulled her feet onto the sofa, hugging her knees close to her chest with one arm and tucking the extra fabric of her dress under her bare feet with her free hand before bringing that arm up to meet her other arm.
She placed her head delicately on the tops of her knees and drifted, not sleeping but existing in the in-between, the plane between the conscious and unconscious, the awake and dreaming.
She was brought out of her dazed state by the soft click of the door opening, and she glanced up to see her father, now clean and dressed, walk in. He hesitated in the doorway briefly before seeming to make up his mind, one way or the other, and he closed the door behind him before making his way to the space next to where Hyacinth was sitting.
Hyacinth scrutinised her father's face; much to his discomfort, she noticed with disguised glee. He looked around her mother's age, perhaps a bit older, with high, regal cheekbones made more pronounced by slightly sunken in cheeks leading to a sharp as broken glass jawline.
His eyes, she noted with interest, were a pale, almost ice blue, yet they had a ring of blood red around the outer ring of his iris.
She was pulled out of her staring when he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable at her intense stare, and she nervously pulled her legs from their positioning at her chest. She felt tempted to hug him, but something held her back as if something in her knew the hug wouldn't be welcomed.
"I won't say that I will be able to jump back into being a father like one would to riding a broom; too much has happened for that; I have spent too long in my own brand of insanity, my own brand of hell for that ever to be possible. But, from what I have been able to piece together from my jumbled memories of... everything, I know I love you." Her father's speech brought tears stinging her eyes.
She turned to him and met hesitant blue-red eyes and plastered a wobbly smile across her face.
"I-" she started, stopping when her voice cracked and taking a deep breath before starting again," I want to be happy; but there's something inside me, no matter how deep it is, that screams I don't deserve it. No matter how hard I try to ignore that, it has always been the same" Her sentence ended in a sob as the day's events and exhaustion finally took their toll on her.
Her father sighed, placing an awkward yet comforting hand on her shoulder, large, warm, and real.
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a/n the random picture of a man is what I imagined Tom to look like.
