To Grow Up
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She was the perfect child.
With long, almost white, blond hair that curled just right at the tips. Deep blue eyes that almost didn't fit her milky childish chubby face, because they were too grow up.
She was a little angel with perfect manners and gracious walk.
She would wear dresses made for the princess' of her story books, and she was more beautiful than any of them.
Her parents were proud of their perfect daughter, who did as she was told and never as so much spoke up once.
She had nannies that took of her, no one or two, but five. And she didn't like any of them. But she was thought that she should never go against her parents' wishes, and it was her parents wish that she would not bother them and listen to her nannies.
Her childhood consisted of preparatory classes, ballet lessons, and lessons to perfect her manners. And she was always said to be gifted, in anything from the arts to the little magic she was thought by a private teacher who would come to her home twice a week.
Her home was her own private 'castle', where there would always be a room she didn't know about and through her mind stories of opening a closed door to reveal the prince charming that came to take her away from the place she was a prisoner, would always pop up.
All of her parents friends who would come to her 'castle' to fundraisers and parties would always compliment them on their beautiful blue eyed daughter who wore the prettiest dresses and behaved so well. It was most likely the reason she had no friends as a child, because she was too perfect and they were children who liked to misbehave and hated pretty dresses and ties.
She doesn't remember being carried by her mother and being taken to the park by her father. She doesn't remember their faces in the crowd that would show for her ballet recitals to watch their own little girls. They hadn't even show up when she was made a Champion.
But that was to be expected, they were busy and she had people who would tend to her needs. Gabrielle had them too.
She had always just been an object, the accessory her parents had to have to keep up with her friends. And it hadn't bothered her until she met her husband-to-be red haired, freckled face, family.
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She watched her daughter, strawberry-blond hair in curly waves that will be so tangled at night she won't be able to undo them.
But she smiled, seated on the grass just outside the crocked house her husband grew up in. The one she found a family in. And she watched her daughter run in her white dress that already have the stains of dirt around her knees.
Her husband almost threw himself next to her, arms possessively around her petite frame and he kisses the exposed part of her neck.
"You know she'll turn that dress brown by the end of the day, right?" he smiled, pulled her closer and she traced the scars in his face with pale fingers that had already memorized every line, every curve.
"It'z al'right" she leaned back against his chest, put her free hand lacing itself with his.
"Really?" he's amazed.
"I wuz ne'er alowzed tzo run like 'zat" she confessed to him.
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Randomness. Please review. And to make this clear, I do not own Harry Potter or any of its character.
GabbyAbby