In her dreams, she runs from him. From her. From them. From the ones who brought her down on her knees in sorrow. From those who never did quite grasp the concept of the word 'love.' From those who never understood the meaning of being a parent.
Though the daughter, our main character, hangs on every word her drunken Death Eater of a mother says, three words stand out to her. "You're not going."
Okay, maybe they're technically four words, if you count "you're" as "you are".
Her mother pushes on, the faintest hint of Muggle alcohol on her breath, "Not this year, you're not. You can't. You're not."
She knows what mother dearest says is final, but she hopes this will all blow over. That, maybe, tomorrow mom will wake up with a deadly hangover (maybe she'll really die), and forget about this all.
But that's a lie. A fabricated dream she wants to hang on to. A false hope she gives herself so that she has something to hope for.
Her name, is Delilah Grace Madson. And with the gift of being a witch, she holds onto the hope of going back to Beauxbatons.
But her mother won't let her. Not this year. She won't go to learn any form of Witchcraft this year, if her mother has it her way. Her mother will not allow her any sense of happiness, any stray light of sunshine to wander into her daughter's life. Not today, not ever.
It's as though it's her dream to crush the fourteen-year-old's hope.
But her father won't have it that way. No. Not this year, not ever. Merlin, how Delilah loves her father. He's so calm, so gentle, so assertive. So what a parent should be.
He is not a Death Eater. He is Father. He is the essence of love, the personification of gentility and kindness.
Father speaks, calmly, softly, "She shall be going to Hogwarts, then."
Mother sneers, nodding in disgusting agreement. "Let's see how long she lasts there."
And that's when her mother failed to destroy hope and happiness. No, in fact, that is when mother brought hope in happiness.
That is the one time Mother failed.