I don't know how long exactly I've been waiting here, I could check my watch, but I don't dare to take out my hands from the sleeves. It's too cold.
As I'm stuffing my nose between my knees to try to keep it warm, a low voice comes to me.
'Ted? Are you still there?'
'Yes, Harry. I'm still here'
No answer comes for a while and when I'm about to speak, I hear it again.
'How are you?'
'I'm fine. What about you?'
'Your voice is shacking'
'It's a bit cold here but never mind'
'You should go home'
'You should open the door'
'It's for your own good'
'Likewise'
The silence stretches on, but I know he is still there I can feel his shoulders against the door just behind mine.
'Ted, if you stay on my side, you are only gonna pay. Don't you understand?'
'I don't mind'
'Victoire might'
'She wanted me to come here'
And again, the silence. This time it goes on for a longer time.
'Ted? Are you still there?'
'Yes, Harry'
And there is another faltering pause. A pause that speaks anxiety, fear, and so much grievance.
'I'm terrified of being alone'
'You are not alone'
'I must stay alone for everybody's sake'
'You should allow "everybody" to decide what's their sake'
Silence but this time for a shorter time.
'You should go home and not come back anymore'
'I told you already I won't. I'll stay here until you'll open this door'
'You'll freeze to death'
'It's a possibility' I say chuckling. The quivering is so severe now I find myself chattering my teeth.
I hear a swish from the other side of the door and steps as he walks away.
I stuff my nose between my knees again trying to master the tremble. I must keep it on, I cannot give up now.
A sudden sound makes my hopes bolt thinking Harry may have decided to open the door. But I realise straight away I'm mistaken. The sound is coming from my right. Harry, unshaved and quite wild looking, eyes all rimmed red, is opening the window. Before I can speak, his wand is against me.
'I'm sorry, Ted. But it's for your own good'
I know what he is about to do, and I must stop him. I know I've got only a split second and my mouth is open ready to say something. Whatever really, it's only to stop him.
Great is my surprise then when from it, in all haste, is this that comes out:
'How was my dad?'
Harry staggers and his wand lower a bit.
'What?' he says puzzlement on his face.
'How was my dad?' I ask with more assurance. Now the sentence is out I found myself very eager to have an answer from him.
I see Harry undecided; he raises his wand as to shot but then he lowers it again as I hoped he would.
'Why are you asking me?'
'Because you are the one who knew him better'
'I didn't know him much.'
'Not much it's more than nothing at all'
He seems struck by my answer and for a moment is pensive still on the windowsill, the cold biting that doesn't seem to get through him, but it does to me.
It's worth though as I see him falters, he is looking for an answer, searching memories to give me a father and I'm sure that he will let me in now; it's only a matter of time. I made a breach. He knows what it feels to be starving for a family, how incomplete it makes you feel not to know anything about them.
But his face darkens and, as he replies, I understand I made a mistake.
'He was a great teacher and a good man, and he died because of me. The same as you mother. I won't allow it to happen to their son too; they'd never forgive me'
His wand is swiftly against me and I've no time to stop him; there is only a white jet of light and then it's all blank.
