The first years of my life are a blur.
Like all children, memories fade, and some get richer with time.
Feeling a wet kiss on my head, then drops of warm ,happy tears.
My mother's angelic voice singing a lullaby to me as I fell asleep on her chest.
Meeting my father for the first time, he had come to tell my mother the war was over, and his mother, my grandmother was with him. They smiled at me.
My father coming home with my mother and I from the hospital.
I had a happy childhood, in fact, I had a wonderful childhood. My parents would dance in the kitchen to the wireless, I went to a nearby Muggle school, though I knew of the Wizarding world to which I belonged, and kept quiet about it. I had friends in the school, I kept good grades, I was a happy, healthy child.
But when I was seven years old, I realised my childhood wasn't wonderful, I was just naive and ignorant.
The sun shone through the window cheerfully, dancing across the wooden table.
'My Dark Mark is burning.'
'Do you know what this means? This isn't possible! We destroyed all the Horcruxes!'
The small boy, with a mess of dark brown hair, and peircing grey eyes, stared at the floor outside the kitchen, his tiny figure hidden in the early morning shadow of the walls.
He didn't understand a word of what his parents were hissing and yelling at each other.
But he knew that something was wrong. Very wrong.
The door flung open, a tall man, with platinum blonde hair smoothed back, stopped short at the sight of the child.
His grey eyes matched those of his son.
He had a pained expression as he tore his eyes from the boy, and walked out the door.
A woman with long brown curls down her back sat her son beside her as the London train picked up motion.
She pulled his head to her chest, kissing his forehead. She didn't want him to see the tears welling in her eyes, or the wand her hand was clenched around in her pocket.
But he knew.
He had seen his father's expression as he had left the house, his mother, him.
He saw how his mother threw clothes and other neccesities in a suitcase, and hurried him out the house, glancing behind her every few seconds.
'Mum?' he asked in a whisper, his small voice barely heard over the roar of the train.
'Yes, Jacob?' she asked, holding him closer.
'Does this mean I don't have to go to school today?'
For the first time that morning, her tense expression relaxed and she let out a laugh that filled the carriage.