𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 | Harry Potter

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

JULY 31ST 1980

„HEY, DARLING," SHE HEARD a familiar voice calling sweetly. Her eyes were closed, but she could hear the heavy footsteps coming closer to her.

There was a moment of silence, but she could feel the heat of a body closer to her. A hand touched her cheek, featherlight, urging her to wake up from her nap.

Furrowing her eyebrows adorably, she finally opened her eyes. Cold grey eyes stared at her kindly, if that was possible, a hand reaching to take her from the bed.

"Papa?" The eight-month-old didn't like the sudden sadness in her father's eyes.

She had just taken a short nap after trying to communicate with her mother for hours. It wasn't even dark yet, why was her father upset? Did he want to talk to her too?

He smiled at her, "It's okay, everything is going to be okay," the man sighed, "You're too smart for your own good, aren't you?"

She made a noise impatiently, looking around as if expecting her mother to jump out from the door behind her and explain what was wrong with her father.

„I'm not keen to let you alone now. Especially when you're starting to understand what I'm saying," he said, looking glumly, „I don't know what my mother would plan to do with you if you show potential to be an heiress."

Momentary distracted from her searching, the baby turned to put her hand on his cheek like he did with her, pouting at his negative expression.

He managed a half-hearted chuckle, „You'll do fine, right?"

„Right!" she repeated, smiling, before she dropped it to frown and her hand fell back to the side, „Mama?"

The father pursed his lips awkwardly, as if unsure how to explain it to her. She already feared the worst. Did her mother get lost again? Did she fall asleep and wouldn't wake up? Did she accidentally upset her and now her mother didn't want to see her?

„She's gone, darling," her father tried to soothe his voice to keep her calm, „Your— your mother isn't coming back."

She looked at him with big, disappointed eyes that looked similar to his own and yet entirely different. Not much older, but wiser, and there was more pain hidden in them.

„Mama angry?"

„No, mama's not angry," he whispered, looking like a new pain was placed in his eyes, „Mama... mama's not angry with you."

The baby started to understand slowly. Her mother was sleeping, just like she feared. She didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to open her eyes again.

There was a sudden tight feeling in her stomach. She wondered if that was what her father felt. Tears built their way into her eyes and her vision blurred to the point where she almost didn't see her father any more as he rocked her back and forth in an effort to calm her.

She tried to distract herself, her father's sad face back into her small, developing mind.

„Papa..." she tried off, trying to find the best word to ask him, „'s wrong?"

He smiled again, this time it showed the pure pain on his face. It was gut-wrenching and uncomfortable, and she wanted nothing more, but to comfort him instead.

„Nothing's wrong, darling. Papa is going to visit his family with you, okay? You and I are going to see my parents," the man stated, „Papa is going to let you stay with grandma and grandpa, he has to go see mama."

„Okay," she said, but her instinct still told her he was wrong. Very wrong.

It took her years to understand that what he meant to say was that he wouldn't come back to her. He would sleep, like her mother.

And the memory of that day would be burned into her mind for fifteen years.