My Beautiful Flower
Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling and I own none of her characters. The OC, however, is mine.
Written for the Mother's Day Competition
Word count: 413
From the moment she first saw him she knew what she would name him, for he was her beautiful flower.
That's what she called him when she held him in her arms, just minutes after he was born. And as he looked at her, blinking his bright, blue-grey eyes as he gazed upon his mother's face for the very first time, she smiled at him and said, "My baby boy. You are my beautiful flower. My Scabior."
Her name was Temperance and he was her first born child. Outside, in her backyard, she had a garden full of flowers. Lavender and roses, daffodils and periwinkle. But her favorite flower was scabiosa.
She named him after the scabiosa in her garden. And after she had recovered from giving birth, resting and recovering her strength for a few days, she brought Scabior outside to show him her garden.
She sat in the shade of the pear tree in the backyard, the butterflies flittering around them in the cool shade. The wind that rustled the leaves of the trees carried with it the perfumed fragrance of the myriad of flowers in the garden.
The baby in her arms was fascinated by the movements of the tiny insects around him. Their colors were so bright, so vivd. Much like the flowers in his mother's garden.
Scabior swatted at them, trying to see if could catch one of them, his tiny hand closing around thin air as the butterflies remained just outside his reach.
"You like the butterflies, don't you, Scabior?" said Temperance, smiling at her baby boy.
He watched the butterflies as they flew out into the sun. One day, when he was older, Scabior would join them in the garden.
He would chase after them in the sunlight, laughing merrily as he tried to catch the delicate little insects. He would play hide-and-seek in the garden with his mother, staying out late in the warm summer months, until the skies darkened and the fireflies came out to dance among the heavens in the starry skies above.
But that wouldn't be until later. For now he was content to rest in his mother's loving embrace, safe and warm as the world slowly turned.
He was just a little flower, and he still needed time to grow and blossom. But no matter how old he was or how much he grew, Scabior would always be her beautiful flower.