Hugo frowned. He had liked Ophelia a lot. She was cute and nice and other than his sister Rosie, she talked to him. And the girls in kindergarten always played with dolls but Ophelia had held a book. Like Rosie but Rosie always read and shushed him and told him to be quiet but Ophelia had just looked up, and had talked to him.
Besides, she had a Daddy who always played with her.
How awesome was that?
He wished his daddy and his mummy had so much time to play with him. Or even Granny and Grandad. But all had to go to work all the time. The way Ophelia had explained, her daddy worked at the same time that she stayed with him. And he wanted to go to work with Mummy or Daddy. Just to see what they were doing. He knew Daddy was catching Dark and Evil Wizards and Mummy played with a lot of books and paper but what exactly they did – he wasn't sure.
He could ask Rose but then she always looked at him as if he should know. Though she probably didn't know herself.
Ophelia didn't know much herself and even though she had the book to look at, she had explained everything when he had asked – and when she had asked something, he had explained. Rosie never did that. She just made that face she did and walked away with her nose in the air.
At least he knew what Granny and Grandad did at work. They drilled holes into people's teeth and he thought that he wanted to do that when he was grown up. A dentist was a cool job. You could always see if people took good care of their teeth or if they didn't and if they didn't, you were allowed to make them better. Grandad explained that tooth-ache was really, really bad (and Hugo knew that he wouldn't get it if he cleaned his teeth every night and every morning and after he had eaten something sugary) and Granny and Grandad made those people better.
Once, just once, he had tried one of the drill out and that had been amazing. It had bored a hole into Granny's chair but she hadn't been angry.
But that wasn't that same as if he knew what Mummy and Daddy worked.
Besides – he missed his daddy. He didn't see him that often any more and when he did, he was mostly sort of staring up in the sky or at him and Rosie and said things like: "I miss your mother."
Hugo didn't know what that meant. Of course he missed Daddy but he wasn't allowed to go there on his own, even if he did have a fight with Rosie or if Mummy and Granny and Grandad did not have time to read to him or play with him. No, he always had to wait until someone brought him to Daddy or if he picked him up.
But Daddy was allowed to go out on his own, so if he missed Mummy, he could just come and talk to her, couldn't he?
Grown-ups didn't make sense. Though Ophelia had said that her daddy made a lot of sense. That he always made a lot of sense – and Hugo thought he did. Because it really did make sense to take his Ophelia to work every day and let her play there.
He really wished, his parents would do something like that.
Not every day, but they could switch, couldn't they? Mondays, Tuesdays together with Mummy and Wednesdays, Thursday, Fridays catching Dark Wizards with Daddy. Or maybe Monday with Granny, Tuesday with Grandad, Wednesday with Mummy and Thursday and Friday with Daddy. That would be cool. And he bet Rosie would be happy with that. That way, she could read all day long and he wouldn't once ask her if she'd like to play with him.
Or – he would just ask Mummy. Maybe Mummy allowed him to go to Ophelia's. It was unfair to have a nursery school all to oneself, wasn't it? He had to share his nursery school with about a thousand or so other children (maybe not a thousand, but Thirteensevensixtyhundred) and she had one all to herself.
That wasn't fair.
And he could play with her Daddy a little as well. And with Ophelia. He liked Ophelia.
xx
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Ophelia?"
"Who was that boy?" she asked.
Hugo had been really nice and he had been so curious, like herself and had actually dared to ask some questions. Some – she had answered – some – she hadn't. It just wasn't right to tell everything right away. He didn't have to know everything. And she wasn't sure what he would tell his parents and she didn't like them a lot.
They left him alone!
And that was the unfairest thing she could imagine. Daddy didn't leave her alone at all. Only when she slept and even then she knew that she could always come to him. That he always had room in his bed for her. She had it better than Hugo and that poor boy had to go to some place where he had to share his toys. That was so unfair. And he didn't even know where his parents worked. And had to share them with his sister.
She had it so much better. She didn't have to share her daddy with anyone. He was just hers, just as she was just his.
"He was a Weasley," her daddy answered and it was his cold voice. Though why, she didn't know.
"What's a Weasley?"
"That's his last name."
"Like mine is Snape?"
"Yes."
"Mh," she said and looked up at him over her plate full of sprouts. She did not like sprouts. They were round and green and didn't taste good. She scratched her chin and frowned while he looked at his food.
"What is it you are thinking about?" he asked in that silky soft voice of his and she knew he had caught her. Again. Daddy always caught her when she was trying to ask him – or tell him – something but she wasn't sure how. Usually, she had found out, it was better to just say it. Make that face and look in his eyes (that was important!) and ask.
"Hugo," she replied simply and looked at him – but he didn't look up.
"And?"
"Can he come and play with me?"
"No."
"Why not? He's so poor. His parents never play with him and he is my friend."
"You only just met him," he looked at her now and had this little line between his eyes.
"He's still my friend and I want to play with him. Please."
"No."
"Please."
"No."
"Daddy! I want to," she said louder. He had never not said no to something.
"Ophelia, no!"
"You're mean!" she cried and, to escape him and his angry face and his angry voice – and the sprouts – she ran from the table. And into her room. She wanted to play with Hugo and he didn't even listen to her.
That was mean!
xx
"Mummy?"
"Yes, Hugo?"
"Can we go to Ophelia tomorrow again? She has a nursery school all to herself and you always say people should share," he tried to make his face look as innocent and as pleading and then remembered, suddenly, the magic word. "Please?"
"Who?" she asked, looking up at him from a stack of papers. "Oh, Ophelia. Snape's daughter. No, Hugo."
"Why not?"
"Because she's no playmate for you."
"Why not?"
"Because she lives too far away."
"Why?"
"Because this is where she lives."
"No, why is it far away? We didn't walk far this morning. And you can appartarte."
"Apparate, Hugo and it's too far."
"But I want to play with Ophelia. She's my friend," he begged. "Please?"
Mummy pushed a bit of hair away from her face and when she did that, she usually was either angry or annoyed or tired. She didn't look tired. But he wasn't sure whether she was angry or annoyed. "Please?" he asked again.
"No, Hugo. And apothecary is not a place to play anyway."
"You never take me to work!" he complained.
"Work is not somewhere where children play," she explained slowly.
"But Ophelia's is allowed to play where her daddy works," he pushed his lower lip forward and – pouted.
"Ophelia is different and Ophelia's father is different. You're not allowed to go there to play and that's the final word. Understood?"
So she was angry. But he could be angry too!
"But I want to go there!" he cried and stomped his foot on the ground. That helped. Sometimes.
"No."
"But I want to!"
"No!"
"I want to!"
"Go to your room," she said, her voice louder than usual.
He just looked at her angrily. And then, ran into his room – hoping that Mummy would change her mind (or that Daddy would take him eventually) – and, that Rosie would not send him out again because he was too loud when she wanted to read.
He wanted to throw himself on his bed and be angry for a while.