A story from Neville's point of view about his parents.
I hate this place.
The narrowed corridors, the harsh lighting and the cleanliness of it all just… gets to me.
The smell is the worst bit, though. It smells like illness, like dark magic, like sadness, and I hate it.
But I have to put a brave face on. Mum and dad would know if I was upset, and then they would get upset, and I would be blamed.
I'm always blamed. But then again, it's usually my fault.
I walk through the reception, nodding politely at the receptionist, who I've become acquainted with, since me and grandma are here all the time. Not today, though. Today is my day with them.
I hurry along the corridors, head bent, mind racing. What mood will they be in today? Sometimes they're happy to see me, sometimes sad… and then there's the other times.
The times when they just stare at me, eyes empty like they don't know me, or are afraid of me. That hurts.
I arrive at their door, and reach out a hand to open it. And stop.
This could be the time. The time when I walk in and a Healer will come up to me with a grin on their face, instead of the sombre expression I usually get. They'll tell me my parents made a full recovery of their minds. Then mum and dad will hug me, and say they love me, and we'll live happily ever after…
'Excuse me? Are you going in there?' the gentle voice interrupts my daydream. I turn to see a male Healer looking at me with concern.
'Oh! Y-yes. Sorry.' I mutter, then duck into the room. It's a large room, for long term sufferers or magical ailments. I head towards the back, to where mum and dad are.
I reach the plain white curtain that marks where my parents live, and pull it aside tentatively, my eyes squeezed shut.
Please please please please please… my mind repeats over and over again.
Please let them be better - or even just happy! Please…
I step into the small area and see immediately what kind of mood they're in.
They're both huddled in the corner, eyes darting backwards and forwards. They spot me and struggle to push themselves further against the wall in terror.
I sigh, and pull the curtain shut behind me.
Happy birthday, Neville.
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