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Notes:
Thank you all so much for the views and kind words. They really helped to motivate me to finally write more of this story.
And I am just so happy to see how much attention the first chapter got. Hopefully this story will continue to be fun to read and you will want to see where it will go! Though I must warn you now that I do not believe this will ever have a regular upload schedule. On a good note however, I do not think this story will be more than 8 to 10 chapters so there's that.
Chapter Two – Liebe
Once more, Harry found himself preparing another meal for his step-siblings. Only this time, Narcissa had gotten up alongside her children. And as Harry stepped into the room with two plates in his hands, he stopped short seeing the regal woman piercing him with a hard look.
.
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"Step-mother." Harry said in way of greeting.
The two stared at one another with no other words being spoken. Though they were a bit confused at the situation unfolding in front of them, the Draco and Astoria knew better than to try to interrupt their mother.
Finally, Narcissa gave the faintest of nods in acknowledgement.
Harry then fully stepped into the dining room and presented his siblings with their morning meals. Still being gazed from the older woman, Harry looked over to her as he headed for the kitchen. Knowing it was technically impolite of him to do it, Harry straightened his back as he turned his head to look over his shoulder at Narcissa.
"Would you like me to bring you your meal as well?" It would have been better for him to face his step-mother when speaking to her, but he was feeling a little spiteful to the fact that he was the only one helping the household while these three wasted the days away drinking, eating and hosting the most absurd evening parties.
"Please do. Oh, and Harry, I would much prefer to have ham over bacon."
With thinning lips, Harry gave a small nod as he walked back into the kitchen.
The sound of eating utensils being used, and the shifting of newspapers made the lack of talking in the room obvious. While Harry himself preferred to mutter to himself in the comfort of his own mind, he did not understand why the three in the dinning room were not conversing. It was none of his business, Harry supposed, what mother and children did during their usual morning breakfast.
When he finally composed a plate for Narcissa, Harry stepped back into the dining room and placed it in front of the woman.
Not wanting to be anymore rude than he already had been, Harry simply said 'enjoy' before he tried to leave once more. As it was, Narcissa spoke up again, causing Harry to turn back.
"Thank you, Harry. That was quite kind of you to do for my children and I. May I ask what you were doing in the kitchen in the first place? Surely you know that a young man of your standing should not be working like you're the help. That's what we have the servants for, dear."
Recalling that her daughter had said something like that him when they first arrived six months ago, Harry gave the same answer that he had told Astoria back then.
"It's alright, Step-mother. All the workers were a bit busy this morning and I had told them that I would happily make breakfast for today so that they would not have to worry about another task. I understand that it might seem unusual for me to work in the kitchens, but I find it can be relaxing sometimes. I don't do it often, if that is what you're concerned with."
She gave a quiet 'hmm' at his words before she proceeded to ignore him for favor of eating. Harry gave a quiet sigh before he escaped them once more.
He placed his hands on the edge of the kitchen counter as he tried to collect himself.
Those three were quite the handful and even a bit intimidating when all three were together like that, gazing into him with all those piercing pale blue eyes.
Harry gave another sigh as he finally straightened and headed outside to see what else he could help with for the rest of the morning.
.
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The next few days seemed to be as regular as it could be for Harry. He helped where he could, he snuck off to the meadows behind the manor a few times, and he avoided his family as much as he could.
He did not make their breakfast again and lunch had always been a meal that one would eat on their own time. Dinners, however, were a different matter altogether. The evening meal had always been with the entire family. James had made sure of that ever since Harry could remember and even with him not currently available, the Potter family sure to still eat together.
Talk was minimal and awkward at best. The only small conversation that was made was that between Draco and Astoria. They never tried to bring their own mother into discussion and they certainly did not invite Harry to speak.
The young raven-haired male was not insulted – far from it. The less that he had to give them the time of day, the calmer Harry felt and that included dinnertime chitchat. He did frown to himself though, once that thought passed through him one evening. His dislike for the three other people in the house was not quite hatred, but neither was his tolerance of them. If these people were to be his family for the foreseeable future, Harry supposed that he should at least try to be more civil.
James was not here to be a mediator though, so if something caused a disagreement between the four of them, it would fall on themselves to try and sort it out.
Harry finally looked up from his plate, "Step-mother, how has the day been treating you?"
Conversation between the siblings ceased at once, their attention now caught between Harry and Narcissa. The older woman looked up from her own plate and faced Harry. "Quite well, I suppose. And you, Harry?"
"Quite well." Harry quickly realized that this would go nowhere. There was no common ground for pleasant conversation and Harry was not about to begin asking the more common questions one would ask when meeting an acquaintance.
Narcissa seemed to read his face and see his dilemma. Harry missed the wicked smirk that graced her perfect face before it was gone as quickly as it had been there. "This dinner is simply delicious. Did you make it Harry, dear?"
"Um, no, Step-mother. But I will be glad to let the head chef know that you found the meal pleasing." It was an odd question, and Harry could not quite understand what she was trying to say. That is, until she spoke once more. Then Harry understood perfectly.
"Oh, I thought for sure you would have. After all, it is one of the better things you are good at."
Giggling quickly replied to her remark. Harry shot his eyes over to his step-siblings and saw Draco smirking at him while Astoria hid her grin behind a dainty hand.
"O-oh." It was an ineloquent answer, but Harry simply did not how to respond to what was obviously an insult. He felt the beginnings of embarrassment creep into his cheeks before he tried to straighten his back and replied, "Thank you, Step-mother. I do enjoy making the occasional meal, though I must confess I am usually only able to provide dishes for those that tend to be late."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the jab and Harry felt himself match her attitude. Silence fell over the table once more.
"Well if you believe that you are good at cooking, then perhaps you should try it some more. After all, if you want to become good at something, one should practice it as much as they can, no?"
Not understanding how this change of direction was supposed to be rude, Harry gave a hesitant nod as he felt his eyebrows begin to lower.
"Well then it's settled," Narcissa spoke, "from now on, you can cook all breakfast meals – for everyone. It can give the head chef and his apprentices the opportunity to tend to the gardens and livestock each morning so that they may be prepared for lunchtime meals and dinners."
Stunned at what she had said, Harry could not think of anything to say to refute her.
She was after all, the lady of the house now. Above Harry himself when it came to the hierarchy of the household, he could nothing but obey her command. That is, until James returned from his travels. Harry simply looked down at his own plate as he gave a reluctant nod at her command and felt his face warm once more at the sound of Draco and Astoria laughing at his misfortune.
He once again missed the look that Narcissa tossed his way before she turned to her wineglass.
.
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The weeks soon passed, and Harry thought he might lose his mind.
Harry had followed the orders of Narcissa and informed the chef that his was no longer needed to cook breakfast for the household any longer. At first, the poor man had thought that he was being let go, but Harry was quick to inform the older man that such a thing was not the case.
The raven-haired young man instead told the chef that he himself wanted to learn to better his cooking skills and what better way for him to start than to cook breakfast for the nineteen people, including the workers children, that lived on the grounds. That is, excluding James at the current moment in time. Breakfast was, after all, one of the more forgiving types of meals one could practice without ruining the food too much.
The head chef had given Harry an odd look when he learned of Harry's reasoning, but soon let it go as he saw how enthusiastic Harry seemed to be about honing a new skill.
What he did not know however, was that Harry had simply used the excuse that Narcissa had given and that Harry was good at lying for the sake of others.
Even though Harry would rather not perform such a duty every day, no matter how much he liked doing it occasionally, he knew better than to try to defy the woman without James around. Or even worse, ruin her influence by insulting her behind her back or insinuating that she was the one to insist that he cook in the first place.
His step-mother and step-siblings gradually become more vicious in their treatment and it only got worse as the days slowly went. Rude had been an adjective that Harry had first described their acts against him but the more they teased and tried to humiliate him, the stronger and nastier the adjectives got that described the three Malfoy's.
On more than on occasion, Harry thought he might even begin to cry when Draco and Astoria would get creative in their ways to try and push his buttons during meal times. It seemed that seeing how poorly their mother treated Harry, they thought they could as well.
The first few mornings after that evening with Narcissa had been quite easy. In fact, Harry would even say that he found slight enjoyment in doing it.
The thought put a smile on his face at the fact that he was able to find the silver lining in something that was linked to Narcissa's doing.
After a while however, Harry soon realized how horrible his step-relatives could be when they began complaining about their food.
The eggs were too runny, the eggs were too tough. Narcissa preferred bacon over ham now. No, she wanted ham again. Draco wanted wheat toast instead of croissants. Astoria would say that her coffee was too hot and then too cold, her silverware was not clean, Draco's tea was made all wrong, and there was not enough fruit choices for him to choose from.
Some foods on their plates were simply inedible, the entire thing was inedible. Toss it all out, Harry, and remake out breakfast. Never mind, Harry, we'll just skip the meal altogether. I don't want to poison myself with your gruel. It would do you some good, Harry, to practice some more. Why don't you spend the day seeing what you can do to improve? There's no need to go out today, is there?
The frustration would get to Harry, and he would feel defeated. He would hide himself away in the kitchens, trying to stop himself from letting tears fall.
The barest hint of someone walking in and catching him in such a state would always motivate him to gather and control himself. There was no need to look like a blubbering mess from just a few harsh words about how well he could or could not cook an egg.
It was with a great relief that James finally came home after two weeks of cooking for the Malfoy's.
Harry's father was back from his first trek of the year and though he would eventually set out once more, he always tried to stay for a while in between his travels for Harry's sake.
Early-May was a difficult time to enjoy the outside weather as the humidity after a storm made one's clothes cling to their bodies and their skin always feel damp. But for Harry, he could not have felt better then when he finally heard and soon spotted the carriage that held his father.
The young man did not waste time standing on the stone stairs that led to the front of the manor and instead leapt, passing the last few steps and landed on the gravel, right in front of the carriage.
What seemed like too long but was in fact mere seconds, the door finally opened and there was James. Twin smiles graced the faces of father and son as they reunited after a month and half away from each other.
Harry knew that most would find it undignified for a young man of sixteen to hug their father like that of a six-year-old, but in the moment, nothing could have stopped him. The want to finally feel a warm and kind touch after days and weeks of feeling nothing from the cold Malfoy's was a craving – a need.
James was all too happy to welcome his son into his arms.
Even though he was leaning against his father and his words would be muffled, Harry spoke, "Welcome home father. I hope travel along the roads was pleasant?"
Knowing that James would understand the basics of what Harry had said since it was the same thing Harry spoke after every return from his travels, James simply smiled as he bent his head to place a soft kiss into his son's hair.
"Yes Harry," he replied with the same words he always used to respond to his child, "my roads were well taken care of and my travels were as pleasant as they can be without you there."
A smile began to form on his face from hearing the familiar words before the feel of strong arms wrapping him in an embrace brought upon emotions that he had been trying to keep at bay and soon, James felt a slight shake from his son. Grabbing hold of his sons shoulders and pulling back to what the matter was, he was astonished to see his son's bright eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"What is the matter, son?"
"It is nothing, father, I am just so happy to finally have you home after so long."
"So long? Harry, I am usually always gone this long per trip. No, something else is the matter. Tell me, won't you?"
Harry debated telling his father the truth. Though he knew that James would help him by confessing to what Narcissa had him doing and that he would no longer be cooking, something in Harry stopped himself from answering right away. The pause made James raise an eyebrow in question and before Harry could come to an internal conclusion, a small sound of a throat clearing broke apart the reunion.
Harry stepped aside and turned to face the front door and spotted Narcissa at the top of the stairs with her two children a step behind her, lurking in her shadow.
With another smile gracing his features, James moved towards the woman, leaving Harry standing near the carriage as he watched his father head up the stairs to greet his wife.
From his perspective, Harry felt as though a large rock had been dropped into his stomach as he watched James embrace Narcissa. With a peck on her cheek, he then turned to Draco and Astoria, giving a handshake and another kiss to the cheek, respectively. Though he knew that his step-siblings were only being sweet on James to make sure that they would receive their gifts from his travels, Harry felt left out as he gazed upon the four.
They looked like a painting reflecting the perfect, loving family that was greeting their long-lost husband and father while Harry was left alone, below and near the carriage as though he belonged nowhere near them.
The sting in his heart seemed unbearable in that moment and as the faintest whisper of telling his father the truth even crossed his mind, Harry looked up once more and spotted Narcissa staring him down.
It was quite an easy feat considering she was already elevated higher than Harry from where she stood at the top of the stairs. The gaze however, was still just as striking and intimidating.
Right away, Harry understood what the look meant.
Tell nothing to James, and you will no longer need to cook.
Determination made Harry stand to his full height and finally walked forward towards the four. Yes, Harry thought to himself, I shall keep quiet for father's sake. He need not bother himself with a crying son who complains about cooking a few meals for his wife.
James turned back to Harry then with a large grin on his face. The image was so sticking for Harry that he paused in his walking and instead let James walk back over to him.
"Don't think I forgot your gift, Harry," James said as he walked passed his son with a pat to his shoulder. Eyes following his father, Harry watched as James stepped up to the back of the carriage and with some help from Neville, who had come up as soon as James' carriage had arrived, a trunk was set upon the gravel and opened right away. A squeal from behind Harry made him flinch and soon enough, Astoria swept passed to stand by James.
A beautiful, floral fan was quickly in her hands and with her prize claimed, she turned and ran back inside the house without any form of thanks leaving her lips.
More shifting gravel told Harry that Draco had come over as well. Though he appeared much more indifferent than his sister, the greed in his eyes was still noticeable. He gave a simple thank you, yet Harry felt as though it was not heartfelt in the least.
Finally, it was Harry's turn. He was fine with the other two receiving their gifts first for it meant that Harry could then spend time with his father after receiving his own.
"What is it this time?" Harry asked.
"Hold on just a moment – let me find it. I know it's here somewhere. Aha! Alright Harry, close your eyes and hold out your hand."
Doing as instructed, Harry then felt a small weight be placed onto his palm.
Once the weight was settled and no more was added, he finally opened his eyes to see a miniature wheelbarrow. It was only just smaller than Harry's entire hand – from the base of his wrist up to the tip of his finger – and within the wheelbarrow were only a few flowers. In fact, the more Harry gazed upon the flowers, he noticed that they were Lilies. Tears threatened to fall once more and as he looked back up at his father, Harry felt a few of them escape to his cheeks once he saw the older man had glistening eyes as well.
"Thank-thank you. They are beautiful. Very much like mother."
"I'm glad you love them. I came upon such a sight when I was a few countries over. I was in quite the large marketplace and there were simply so many stalls and vendors. In the corner of the square, there was an older lady selling a variety of cute little objects that were filled with nothing but the most vibrant flowers. I spotted this one right away and just knew it would be your gift this time."
With the gift balanced in one hand, Harry happily leaned forward and gave his father another hug in thanks.
With the lily's cradled in his arms and the carriage being relieved of its burdens by the workers, Harry and James began their stroll throughout the grounds. They spoke about everything and nothing at all. Simply happy to be in his presence once more, Harry made sure to not bother the older man with his personal issues and instead continued to stroll outside, absorbing the mid-day sunlight and laughter that escaped from James.
.
.
As Harry had hoped, he was no longer teased and pestered by the Malfoy's with James there.
Behind his back, the only problem that Harry faced was Draco glaring at him and Astoria looking at him as though he were a specimen under a microscope.
He was able to brush their looks away.
Indeed, the month with James in Potter Manor brought a peace to Harry and left him feeling like everything was right in the world. It was then, no more than a few says later that Harry had to hold back the tightness in his throat as he watched his father help the household prepare his carriage once more.
He tried to keep his lips from trembling so that they would not reveal how much he did not want his father to leave him once more. Occasionally, James would look over to him with a small smile as though he already knew what Harry was feeling.
Finally, the carriage was filled to the brim with his wares and James stood before the coach looking Harry in the eye as silence descended upon the two.
Harry could feel the stares from behind him on the stairs once more, but he tried to ignore them in favor of bidding James goodbye.
With a shaky sigh, Harry whispered, "Don't go."
James held a look of exasperation and devastation, "Oh Harry, you know that I must. I do what I love and what I must to keep our family happy and prosperous. I do this for you."
"Well can't you just stay for a few more days? I miss you terribly when you are gone."
Pulling Harry into his arms, James murmured into Harry's hair, "I love you, son. I know that Narcissa and her two children can be a handful occasionally, but they are our family now. I know that my leaving has been harder on you since Lily left us, but this is my profession."
Harry simply clung to James even more at his words. Fistfuls of his coat filled Harry's hands and he finally peaked up at the older man, "But how much longer? I know that it is Potter tradition, but surely you do not plan to be a Merchant your whole life."
A chuckle escaped at those words, "No, Harry, I suppose I don't. But I do still believe that it will be a few more years before I will think of retiring to a more leisurely occupation. Tell you what – how about I try to hurry this specific trip? If I make it home exactly one month from today, I will not leave again until I have been home with you for two."
Knowing that it would be the only bargain that James would make, Harry finally nodded in acceptance.
All too soon, James sat at the front of his carriage and as he and the other two carriages with the rest of his wares began to leave through the front gate, Harry felt his feet moving on their own. He ran after the trotting horses and once they passed the gates and turned onto the road, Harry followed and stopped once he passed the gates.
"I love you, father!" Harry shouted once more, wanting it to be the last words he spoke to his father until he returned.
"Good bye Harry! One month!" James shouted in reminder and with a wave of a hand that he spared from the horse reins.
Harry continued to watch as the three coaches gradually got smaller until they were gone completely after overcoming the small hill on the horizon. Even though he knew that James would not have spotted him as he got progressively farther away, Harry made sure to wave his arm in the air at their continued departure.
His arm finally got tired and as he lowered it and turned back to the house, Harry found that the Malfoy's had already retired back into the house at some point.
The realization swept upon Harry as he was now once more at the mercy of Narcissa and her spawns. James was gone once more and though she had indicated that she would not force Harry to cook, he understood that she might push him to do something else for her amusement. He gave a deep sigh at that and as Harry headed back towards the house and the Malfoy's Harry reminded himself of Lily's last words and it brought newfound confidence to the young man.
Have courage and be kind.
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Harry's prediction came true and Narcissa found new ways to keep her amusement at Harry's misfortune. Though they were not harmful, neither were they harmless.
The lady of the house would bid Harry to help clean up the dishes one morning, then tidy up the solar the next. They were menial tasks, but it was the way in which she spoke and the remarks she would make once Harry was done, that were straining.
It was certainly not simply teasing, no matter how much Narcissa insisted it was.
The first week went by without James and Harry soon found himself dreading the days. Waking up to the realization that he lived under the same roof as those three did nothing to motivate him to leave the room.
What also soon got to Harry was how Draco and Astoria would treat him. Narcissa was a horrible influence on her offspring and they greedily picked up on her mannerisms towards Harry. The mocked him as much as she did and teased him when he did the small housework tasks.
The worst, Harry thought, was how clever they were about it all. None of the household were ever around whenever their true personalities shined, and Harry never ran to them for help.
How could he? Aftercall, Narcissa was the lady of the house. For one thing, people would certainly think she either was entitled to how she acted in her own home or they would not believe Harry because he was the only one who had ever seen her act like such. The household knew her to be strict, but never abusive.
Another week went by and the slight hope Harry held grew once he realized half the month had passed. James would arrive in another two weeks.
It did not do much for motivation, but it did build optimism.
For poor Harry, it seemed that woe would befall him, for another week passed and the fateful day arrived.
Stood out in the front hall, cleaning the large mirror while muttering to himself, Harry heard the telling sounds of a hoofs on the road. A voice soon confirmed his suspicions when someone shouted, "Mail coach is here!"
A smile bloomed onto Harry's face. Though it was not James himself, surely the mail would have something from his father.
He hurried to clean the last of the reflective surface and soon raced to the front door, opening it as he heard feet shuffling behind him, telling him that his step-relatives had also arrived to see what mail there was.
Harry reached out and opened the large wooden door and saw an older coachman delivering something to Ted, one of the gardeners. Confused, Harry watched the man mutter something and Ted's face shift from curiosity to worry. The mailman gave a nod and as he soon departed, Ted nervously shifted to look upon Harry.
Ted finally began walking towards where Harry still stood within the doors archway. Harry spotted a single envelope tenderly held within the mans weathered hands and when he finally reached Harry, he simply handed over the envelope.
Hesitant, Harry slowly reached for it and once he did, he saw that Ted still held the other end.
"I'm so sorry Harry," Ted began, "but James has passed on. An illness took him on the road. His only request was for this letter to reach you and his last thoughts were only about you. You and your mother." With that, Ted finally let go of the letter and stepped back, giving Harry space after hearing such news.
Lightheadedness stuck Harry. He felt as though he were within a dream and would float up into the sky at any moment. The edges of his sight seemed to darken by the minute until everything blurred from tears forming.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"But what about our gifts?" Astoria asked out of know where, breaking Harry out of his bubble.
The shock that flooded Harry left him at those words but he had no time for the emotion to shift into anger at what she had said. He turned back to look at her and spotted her standing in-between Narcissa and Draco in the middle of the hallway.
"Can't you all see that it doesn't matter anymore?" Narcissa interrupted her daughter. "Nothing else matters anymore," she nearly shouted, "we're ruined," she said at last before she hurriedly left the hall and ran up the stairs. The sound of her bedroom door slamming soon told everyone where she went. Draco and Astoria traded a look before they too walked away as though they were told the weather forecast.
A ringing started to begin in Harry's ears and as he turned back to face Ted, he almost did not hear the older man speak again.
"I am sorry for your loss, lad. Truly, I am. James was an amazing man and father."
Harry took a gulp of air and swallowed before answering, "Yes, thank you Ted. It must have been hard on you to deliver such news."
The devastated look on the other mans face was the last thing Harry saw before he slowly shut the front door with a soft click.
With the door closed, Harry turned around and let his back fall against the sturdy piece of wood. He clutched the envelope tightly to his chest with both hands as he felt something finally begin to stir within him. A choked cry finally escaped his mouth and as his eyes began to overflow with tears, Harry felt himself slowly slump to the floor, still leaning back against the front door as his only support.
A hand came up to cup his mouth, trying his best to stop the agonizing sounds that wanted to escape. Shaking wracked his entire frame and all too soon, the tears finally began to fall down his cheeks and land upon his hand, his clothes, and the envelope.
With the raw emotion not leaving anytime soon, it was pure willpower that made Harry finally begin to open the envelope with shaky hands.
He peeked inside when he felt the weight of the envelope and noticed something shine within. He tilted the envelope upside and down and the object fell out.
Right away, the small, silver chain fell from within and landed on his lap. Harry picked it up to observe that it was a necklace. A bust of a silver stag hung from the end and it had quite the peculiar antlers. Harry stared at it in wonderment before he hastily pulled it over his head and let it lay gracefully on his chest.
He admired how it hung for a moment before he turned back to the envelope and spotted the letter within.
Harry carefully pulled it out and unfolded it. The familiar handwriting brought another wave of agony to Harry before he forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself down even if just slightly. Finally prepared to read his fathers last words, Harry then begun.
.
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My dear, beloved Harry,
Where to begin – that is always a hard question to answer. As it was however, I suppose it began when I first started my merchant travels, all the way back before you were even born.
Traveling along the road is always a difficult aspect of any occupation. Wars may stop routes, political troubles may disrupt certain paths, and even illness may strike those that traverse the lands.
I do not know what may come of me this month, but I will do my duty and write this letter as usual. Yes Harry, if you have not caught on yet, though you are a clever one, so I suppose you have, I write these letters every time that I leave home for the dangerous unknown. You never know when your last day is upon you and as a precaution, I had always written a letter to your mother and now, I write to you. These letters are always started the first day after my departure and I regularly update them throughout the month, filling the letter with the kind of nonsense that I know you love.
I know that you may be curious to know about past letters, but I must confess that every time I arrive home, I burn these letters. You see Harry, these are only written with the intention that I do not come home to you. So, if you are reading this, then I have perished in my latest travels.
I am so very sorry that you must read that but know that I write these with you always on my mind. I love you Harry.
.
.
Harry then noticed that the ink changed from then on to various types of messy scrawl and different colors of ink as well. It was James writing what was on his mind at that moment in time before he tucked the letter away only to begin another section later in his travels when something once more caught his attention.
.
.
A storm came upon us this evening. There was quite the thunder with plenty of frightening lightning as well! Though I suppose I enjoyed the jumps my companions and I would get from the sound.
A strange old woman and who I observed to be her grandchild were selling apples along the road. I bought several and I must confess that they were the sweetest apples that I have ever tasted!
I finally came upon my first town that I set up shop in. I sold quite a few of my wares though I am embarrassed to say that I had a coughing fit at one moment and it scared off a few older ladies who glared at my apparent 'lack of manners'. At least that was what I heard them mutter.
The road sure was quiet today though unbearably hot. I was sweating so much that I thought I might pass out! Once we rested for a bit, I was surprised to hear from my companions that they did not think the weather was as bad as I thought it to be. Odd.
Out first major city for this trek is a sight to behold, Harry. You would love it. I also believe that I have found your gift. A curious little necklace with a stag on it. The silver is quite striking, and I am sure it to be genuine as well. The real reason I chose it for you is that I am enraptured by the antlers on the creature. They remind me of the lightning storm I was in at the beginning of my travels. Yes, I love the little thing and I am sure that you will as well, Harry.
I am worried, Harry. I awoke to a coughing fit this morning and when I pulled my handkerchief away, it contained some blood. My companions are worried as well and we have decided to hold off on our next destination and instead hope to find a doctor.
Harry, our hopes in searching for a doctor have not been fruitful and as the days pass, I worry that this may be my last letter I write to you. I worry that this is the letter you read. I pray that the next time that I write will be when I am better, but just in case, I must tell you something.
I love you son. Truly, I do, and I hope you know just how much. A father never wishes to die in such a way, away from their family, but with my line of work, I simply must be realistic. I know that Narcissa is a rather… strong woman, but please, for my sake, take care of her in my stead. As for yourself, my son, take care as well. Find the love and happiness that I know you deserve. I obviously hope that you never read this and that my illness will pass but the days are coming and going, and no doctors have crossed our paths. I do not know what ails me and for that, I worry.
I have placed the necklace alongside this letter just in case. Please Harry, do not mourn for me too long should I leave you. Know that I will be with Lily, looking over you from above. I love you Harry, so very much. So much…
.
.
Completing the letter only did so much to make Harry feel better. A steady trail of silent tears continued to fall form his face.
Though Harry wanted nothing more than to crumple the parchment, he made sure to fold it as neatly as he could, in between his chokes and hiccups, for it held the last words from his father.
With the letter carefully placed out of the way, Harry finally brought his knees up to his chest and placed his face upon his folded arms and let the grief finally overwhelm him.
Sobs and cries continued to echo throughout the hallway as a young man no older than sixteen now mourned the death of two parents. No one was around to hear the weepings of the lost teen and the space around him seemed all the bleaker because of it.
End Chapter Two
