A/N: House : Slytherin
Category : drabble
Prompt : "Thank you for agreeing to help. My son/daughter is in a difficult position." [Speech]
Word Count : 430
Cassiopeia Travers was certain she had never seen a creature as beautiful, pure, and innocent as her newborn daughter. Her baby girl was far too precious for the world into which she was born, a world on the brink of war. Grindelwald had been defeated decades prior, but a new and dangerous Dark Lord named Voldemort was on the rise. Rightly worried for their daughter's safety, she and her husband hatched a plan to save their darling girl.
It involved two muggles by the name of Mr. and Mrs. Granger. The couple was moderately wealthy and was declared infertile, and while their precious girl wouldn't have the protection of the pureblood last name, she would have unconditional love of parents not bogged down by the increasingly risky politics and the smarts both of her birth parents were well known for.
Mr. and Mrs. Travers arranged a tea with the Grangers a few days after their daughter was born. Predictably, the Grangers were shocked by Cassiopeia's proposal.
"You– you want us to adopt your baby? You'll pay us to adopt your baby?" Mr. Granger asked, clearly flabbergasted.
"Yes," answered Cassiopeia, her voice choked.
"And, let me get this straight, you say it's because there's a war going on – a secret war, nonetheless – and you can't protect her?" he continued, regarding Cassiopeia skeptically.
"That is correct. Please, please help us."
Mr. Granger opened his mouth to speak, but his wife gently placed her hand on her husband's arm. "We'll do it. We'll protect your darling," she said, recognising the despair in the other woman's voice, despair that only a mother can have for her children in dangerous times.
"We're eternally grateful," Cassiopea whispered quietly, her voice raw with emotion. "I'll bring her over first thing tomorrow morning."
"Okay, sweetheart. Would you like a cup of tea? I know how hard this– " Mrs Granger began.
"I'm very sorry, but I think I need to go home now," Mrs Travers interrupted. With that, she turned on her heel and walked out the door, her pained sobs piercing the silence left in her wake. Mr. Travers made to follow her, but stopped before leaving.
"Thank you for agreeing to help. My daughter is in a difficult position. A very difficult position. We don't have a choice, and we are so glad you'll help us. It's - it's still painful for my wife and me," he said, his voice tight. Then he turned on his heel and left as well, praying for the only thing he had ever wanted – his daughter's safety.
