A/N: Oh, aren't you all lucky? Two chapters in one day!
Scrubbing sleep out of her eyes, Millicent turned the page of her book. Technically, it was her father's book, but he was making her read it, so until she was done, it was hers. Softly humming to herself she turned the page again.
"Sweet dreams are made of this; who am I to disagree? Travel the world and the sevens seas; everybody's looking for something," she sang softly. Hearing her father's silent disapproval, she shut her mouth. Unfortunately, someone else in the class picked up the tune, and began humming it, making her father take five points from his house.
Millicent sneezed when she turned the next page. Her father raised an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head. From her seat behind his desk, she could never see very much; that was not the point. The point was to keep her close to him without having her disrupt the class.
Not that she would be much of a disruption. She was exhausted. Lucius had been trying to catch her mentally every other day for two weeks straight. Millicent caught up on her sleep in the cold dungeon, listening to her father snap and snarl at every student he had, as well as some of the teachers. Her appetite suffered as well. She just could not force herself to eat wyhile she felt so sad and so tired.
"Wash your hands, and be sure to wash them thoroughly. If you don't, you'll die eating your lunch," her father snapped as the class rushed for the fountain. She could tell he had no high opinion of this class, telepathy or no.
"Should you wash yours?" she asked after the last student had fled from the room.
"Yes, and so should you." He helped her unbury herself from the pile of blankets she had wrapped herself in.
Plunging her hands into the icy jet of water, Millicent shivered. She scrubbed her hands quickly, and her father set her down. As he leaned over to wash his own hands, she swayed, and leaned against his leg. His cool hand touched her forehead.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm just sleepy," she murmured, but her words slurred together strangely. She listened to his mental worry, but she could not summon the strength to try to reassure him. Suddenly she giggled.
"What?" he asked, scrubbing at his hands thoroughly.
"You teach me lots of words." She giggled again. "I don't sound like me when I think."
"And you find that amusing?" her father asked, raising his eyebrow and giving her his trademark frown. She started giggling again. "Why is that so funny?"
"Because. Hee-hee. I don't talk like that. Hee-hee. But you do." Her giggles were bubbling up, almost out of her control.That was not right. Her father got down on his knees and took her face in his hands.
"Millicent, that is not funny. Stop, right now." She could feel a number of emotions coming from him, but the one she latched on to was his anger. Her giggles turned into sobs. Why was he always so angry with her? What did she do?
"Millicent?" The concern in his voice only made her cry harder.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be bad." Millicent gasped out between her sobs, and the hiccups that were escaping in spite of her attempts to still them.
"Oh, Millicent. You haven't been bad; you're just hysterical." He gathered her in his arms and rocked her until she was calm again. By that time she was asleep.
Scrubbing sleep out of her eyes, Millicent turned the page of her book. Technically, it was her father's book, but he was making her read it, so until she was done, it was hers. Softly humming to herself she turned the page again.
"Sweet dreams are made of this; who am I to disagree? Travel the world and the sevens seas; everybody's looking for something," she sang softly. Hearing her father's silent disapproval, she shut her mouth. Unfortunately, someone else in the class picked up the tune, and began humming it, making her father take five points from his house.
Millicent sneezed when she turned the next page. Her father raised an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head. From her seat behind his desk, she could never see very much; that was not the point. The point was to keep her close to him without having her disrupt the class.
Not that she would be much of a disruption. She was exhausted. Lucius had been trying to catch her mentally every other day for two weeks straight. Millicent caught up on her sleep in the cold dungeon, listening to her father snap and snarl at every student he had, as well as some of the teachers. Her appetite suffered as well. She just could not force herself to eat wyhile she felt so sad and so tired.
"Wash your hands, and be sure to wash them thoroughly. If you don't, you'll die eating your lunch," her father snapped as the class rushed for the fountain. She could tell he had no high opinion of this class, telepathy or no.
"Should you wash yours?" she asked after the last student had fled from the room.
"Yes, and so should you." He helped her unbury herself from the pile of blankets she had wrapped herself in.
Plunging her hands into the icy jet of water, Millicent shivered. She scrubbed her hands quickly, and her father set her down. As he leaned over to wash his own hands, she swayed, and leaned against his leg. His cool hand touched her forehead.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm just sleepy," she murmured, but her words slurred together strangely. She listened to his mental worry, but she could not summon the strength to try to reassure him. Suddenly she giggled.
"What?" he asked, scrubbing at his hands thoroughly.
"You teach me lots of words." She giggled again. "I don't sound like me when I think."
"And you find that amusing?" her father asked, raising his eyebrow and giving her his trademark frown. She started giggling again. "Why is that so funny?"
"Because. Hee-hee. I don't talk like that. Hee-hee. But you do." Her giggles were bubbling up, almost out of her control.That was not right. Her father got down on his knees and took her face in his hands.
"Millicent, that is not funny. Stop, right now." She could feel a number of emotions coming from him, but the one she latched on to was his anger. Her giggles turned into sobs. Why was he always so angry with her? What did she do?
"Millicent?" The concern in his voice only made her cry harder.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be bad." Millicent gasped out between her sobs, and the hiccups that were escaping in spite of her attempts to still them.
"Oh, Millicent. You haven't been bad; you're just hysterical." He gathered her in his arms and rocked her until she was calm again. By that time she was asleep.
