Notes (1): I'm not going to lie, I have never been so disappointed in myself. I've had to write, delete, rewrite, delete and rewrite this chapter. I'm still not entirely satisfied, but still.
(2) I'm sorry for having taken so long, fortunately I'm on vacation so all of my time will be devoted into my WIP.
(3) Also as you can see I've raised the amount of chapter from 24 to 30. This is because I realized there was no way that I could legitimately fit everything I have planned for this fic into 24 chapters.
The world of Harry Potter and its characters belong to JKR. I do not support JKR. Trans women are women. Trans men are men. Trans people are people.
Chapter 16: Bellowing Screams
The four Champions had been called to the stadium. Ron was just finishing the last of his Herbology assignment, his fingers dirty with small ink spots. His hair was bothering him as it stuck to the back of his neck, perhaps he needed a haircut, but he thought about his mother ranting about Bill's hair and put the idea aside almost immediately. As he entered his private room, he left his things in front of the fireplace, taking a bite of a chocolate biscuit he had left a day or two ago by the sofa.
He entered the stadium to find that the other Champions along with their founders were already there. As he munched on his chocolate biscuit he tried very hard not to feel like the odd one out. Cedric had his hammer holstered on his side, Daphne wore her silver rings and Luna had her bow on her back. Ron very silently went back to his room and took his sword.
Sitting down and waiting for his Master, Ron took a second biscuit from that day's lunch and ate it in one bite. As he swallowed a loud bang came from behind him, making him choke on the sweet pastry.
"Very well," Gryffindor hollered cheerily. "Wait, what are you all doing here so early?" He asked.
"We've been here for 45 minutes, Lord Gryffindor," said Slytherin, who at that point had been conjuring water snakes with his wand. "You're the one who's late."
"My apologies then," said Gryffindor, a smile still on his face despite inconveniencing everyone.
"Why did you summon us all here, Madame?" Cedric asked Hufflepuff.
"Well," she said, in an uncertain tone of voice. "It has come to our attention that perhaps trying to get all of you to train together might lead you to a… closer interhouse-relationship."
"We're worried that you might end up killing each other if you don't get along," Gryffindor said in a bit of an annoyed tone.
"Godric!" The other three scolded, only making him scoff as if to dare anyone to prove him wrong. Slytherin rolled his eyes and looked at Luna.
"Come on now, we'll start with you Ms. Lovegood," said Slytherin. "You and Lady Ravenclaw shall show us exactly what you've been doing during your training sessions."
Luna nodded, and took out her bow. Ravenclaw for her part summoned a cage filled with small flying lights with wings; they looked like blue glowing snitches that flew around the cage.
"Ms. Lovegood," said Ravenclaw in a clear voice. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, madame," said Luna. Ravenclaw waved her wand at Luna.
"Caesio," a piece of black cloth wrapped around Luna's eyes. She waved her wand once more at the cage, and the flying lights began to soar around the stadium like dozens of snitches trying to get away from a seeker. "Begin."
Luna pulled the string of the bow and simply aimed at the side, the spell that was in the shape of an arrow shined brightly, Luna kept the string incredibly tight, when the light of it suddenly shined even brighter in a quick flash.
"Stupefy," she casted and three spells shot out of her bow and hit three of the lights, vanishing them and making the other lights flying around the stadium at an even faster rate. Luna began to look around, aiming her bow at a seemingly random place before hitting at least one, sometimes two. About a handful of them charged at her, and she simply jumped into the air, before stepping on air like she had done at the Match and hitting the last of them.
Ron clapped for her, and was surprised when he was the only one to. He looked at Daphne Greengrass, it checked out why she hadn't clapped, but Cedric was looking at something in the air, paying almost no attention to Luna. His eyes moved from one side of the room to the other, and then Luna was hit on the side of her body.
"Ouch!" Luna shrieked. She put her bow on her back and took out her wand hitting the last of the little flying lights. Taking off her blind, she had a look of almost annoyance, like when Hermione had insulted the Quibbler in their first meeting.
"It's fine, Ms Lovegood," said Ravenclaw. "Good job. You make your house proud," Luna still seemed upset, but Ravenclaw's words seemed to brighten her mood slightly.
"Very well," said Hufflepuff. "How about you go next, Cedric?"
"Yes, Madame," Cedric said, throwing his hammer in the air and catching it. Clearly excited, the Head Boy raised his wand and aimed at the floor. "Conus."
From the stone floor, a large piece of the floor came out in the shape of a cone, and Cedric charmed it so it stayed floating in the air. Cedric stood up on a large boulder and balanced on it, as with every step it seemed to stumble on the air. Hufflepuff aimed her wand in the air, turning a nearby fly into a small pebble, which she engorged, turning into a rock the size of a Quaffle.
"Germinio," she casted and the rocks multiplied. Now about twenty or more rocks the size of Quaffles filled the stadium. "Begin! Oppugno!"
One by one the stones began to fly around Cedric, each and every one threatening to hit him. One of them headed straight to him, and Cedric turned and hit it with his hammer, turning it into a thousand pieces of dust. Another one came, he dodged and the same thing happened as the first.
The stones began to fly faster as Cedric destroyed more and more of them. His feet began to tremble as well as the piece of floor that floated in the air. One of the flying stones graced his calf, distracting Cedric and making another take its chance to hit him square in the chest. Cedric barely managed to swing his hammer when the stone broke in three large pieces right in his face, throwing him off the platform and ending the exercise. Cedric had hit about eighteen of them by the time he was done, only leaving about five or six still flying, only now standing still in the air.
"Good," said Hufflepuff, as she fixed the floor of the stadium. "You destroyed three more than last time. Showing off?"
"A bit," Cedric told her.
"Yes, yes, good job," said Slytherin, impatiently. "Lord Gryffindor?"
"Why doesn't your Champion go first, Salazar?"
"Fine then," Slytherin sighed, a bit tiredly as he nodded at Daphne Greengrass. She in turn nodded back, walking to the centre of the room. Daphne brandished her wand, casting the Water-Making Spell and creating a small ball of water as she did so. Brandishing it, the tip of Slytherin's wand began to pour out smoke. "Adversarius," he casted, the smoke swirled around the room. "Inferi," a body made of smoke that seemed to snarl, and twitch every couple of seconds materialise in front of them. "Begin."
The body of smoke screeched and ran full speed at Daphne, who simply slashed her wand, and a piece of it froze as it pierced right through its chest.
"No wonder Sal chose her," Gryffindor muttered in Ron's ear.
Another came from behind her, almost like she already knew where it was coming from, she slashed her wand again, this time piercing through its head, the humanoid light-being falling to the ground. More and more of them came after her each looking as feral and dangerous as the last, none resembling a normal human being. Never had Ron seen something so human-looking be so inhuman.
When she didn't use the water from the large water ball, she would hex and curse any that threatened to come close to her. Ron wondered if perhaps she had planned to use any of those spells against him.
Soon the water from the orb began to diminish, Daphne seemed more and more exhausted and yet she had outlasted the other two. Knowing how skilled she was, Ron felt quite insecure about his own abilities. Soon, one of the inferi managed to get her guard down, tackling her to the ground and holding her arms tight as it snarled in a sort of victory. She wrestled against him to no avail as she could not get out of its strong hold.
"Finite incantatem," Slytherin's voice spoke out loud and the fake inferi disappeared. Daphne stood up, cleaning herself with her wand and joining the side of her mentor. "You did not use your weapons, Ms Greengrass. I expect a more aware outcome next time."
"Yes, sir," said Greengrass. Ron stared at the two of them. Out of the three, she had been the best one, and yet Slytherin had still been left unsatisfied.
"Very good," said Gryffindor, clapping his hands. "All very nice and neat. Come on, Ron! It's our turn."
"Yes, Master," he said, unsheathing his sword. Ron took a deep breath and felt the Essence of Dragon Heart course through his veins. His wand aimed at his throat, he took a deep breath and awaited his Master's orders.
"Adversarius. Wizard. Begin!"
"Draconis Spiritus," from Ron's mouth a beam of flaming hot fire came out and he formed a circle around him. From outside the circle the body made of a misty light came running, Ron quickly shot him down with a Stunner. The second one wasn't as easy as the first as it waved its wand, throwing a spell at Ron. A quick shield charm managed to protect him, as he took it down as well.
Each and every enemy was different from the last, some staying outside while others broke into the circle, where Ron disarmed one with his wand, kicked the other into the fire, and cut one's wrist slightly so he would let go of his equally fake wand. The fire seemed to diminish as time went on, the flames begin to lower themselves to a height no bigger than a gnome by the end. Ron had no way of protecting himself, and by the end he was cornered by five of them. With one final swing he cut one's head before being thrown away from the back.
"Good one, Ron," said Gryffindor. "Very good. You'd make a fine dueller if you so desired to."
"Thanks," he said, getting up and feeling a large bruise forming on his side.
The Four Founders and their Champions all joined in a circle, the latter's small wounds now healed.
"Very well," said Ravenclaw. "What have we learned today?"
"Weasley has a weak posture when he's casting spells?" Daphne asked.
"Greengrass has a nasty personality whenever she breathes?" Ron responded to her insult.
"Do not start you two," Gryffindor and Slytherin practically ordered at the same time.
"Each of you has their own strengths and weaknesses," said Hufflepuff. "But that does not make you either better or worse than the other."
"Can someone tell us something that you perhaps noticed about your fellow Champions?"
The room stayed silent for a few minutes, when a voice in front of Ron broke it.
"Diggory's balance is outstanding," said Daphne Greengrass to the surprise of everyone, even her own founder seemed completely surprised by her appraisal of Cedric's skills. "I'd be surprised if any of us could manage to knock him off his feet."
For some reason, Slytherin looked at Daphne strangely, but in Ron's opinion this had been the nicest he had seen her, in perhaps twelve seconds. Cedric smiled at her and seemed to thank her silently.
"Ron has amazing stamina," said Luna, she looked at him with her wide grey eyes. "He never seemed to get tired. And whenever any of his training dummies tried getting close to him, he always managed to do something different than the last time. A surprise at every corner."
"Thanks, Luna," Ron said, feeling shy at being praised so publicly.
"Luna didn't miss," Cedric piped up. "Even when she didn't shoot anything out of her bow for a few seconds, you could almost guarantee that she would hit her mark."
Ron nodded alongside Cedric's explanation as a large smile appeared on Luna's face, it was only after he felt Slytherin's gaze right on him that he realised he needed to say something good about Daphne.
"Daphne was…" he felt at a loss for words as he looked at Gryffindor for answers, the old wizard simply arched his eyebrow at him. "Greengrass was effective…" Intimidating, he wanted to say. "It would have been a miracle for those things if they had stayed alive ten seconds after being summoned."
Slytherin smirked at him, he wore an almost gloating sneer that reminded him of Malfoy.
"Great," said Hufflepuff. "You understand that even the people you are confronting are strong."
"That teaches you not to underestimate them," said Slytherin.
"And, that, just like you," Hufflepuff added. "They have weaknesses."
"Ms Lovegood," said Ravenclaw, turning Luna so she looked at her eye to eye. "You let your guard down. If your hearing was as remarkably exceptional as your eyesight is now, you would have never been hit. We need to train your senses a lot more."
"Yes, madame," she agreed.
"Mr Weasley," said Gryffindor, doing the same to Ron as Ravenclaw did to Luna. "Your fire, like yourself, gave up. You need to be aware of your limitations, but you also must stay aware of your potential. Don't undermine yourself."
"Yes, Master," said Ron, in reality he thought he had done as much as he could have.
"Mr Diggory," Hufflepuff said. "Your focus still manages to escape you when it comes to even the tiniest distractions. If it does not hurt you or kill you then do not make it a concern until it should become a concern."
"Yes, Madame," Cedric said, looking like he had been in that conversation previously. "Sorry, Madame."
"Ms Greengrass," said Slytherin. "As I said before, I did not see you using your weapons. You should not rely on your magic, if you aren't capable of defending yourself with it."
"Yes, sir," Daphne said, and Ron caught as her lower lip twitched in a sort of restrained annoyance. "I apologise for the mistake. It won't happen again."
"Good," said Slytherin. "Now all of you," he said, turning around and facing the rest of them. "Could you say that you understand your fellow Champions more than before?"
Almost all of them nodded a bit unsurely.
"Good. Because from now on this will be your daily training. You will no longer leave for the forest," he looked at Cedric. "Or the Astronomy Tower," he looked at Luna. "Or by the lake," and he settled his eyes on Daphne.
"What?" came from Daphne. "Sir, as much as I respect your decisions–"
"And it's a good thing you do Ms Greengras, because this one is final."
The mentor and apprentice were practically glaring at each other, without so much as moving their eyebrows. If looks could kill, Ron didn't know who'd be dead first. Eventually, Daphne took a deep breath, and stepped back, putting her hands behind her back as she nodded.
"Very well," said Gryffindor, looking at Daphne strangely. "We'll leave you now, we'll come back in half an hour, and we expect the stadium to remain when we're back."
And with that the Four Founders left, leaving the four to train by themselves. Ron, surprising everyone, didn't waste a second and began to run laps around the stadium. It seemed to take him about three laps before he began to sweat profusely, his arms and legs begging him to stop, but he did not relent.
Meanwhile, Cedric was doing pushups on his knuckles, balancing his wand on the top of his head. It seemed the dirt was surrounding his toes and hands as if trying to make space for him. Sweat dripped down his brow as he tried to keep his rhythm and movements consistent at all times.
Daphne had surrounded herself around a bill ball of water, her movements were slowed as the water kept her from using her full normal strength. She waved her wand, clearly struggling to move at a normal speed.
Luna was hopping on the air from side to side, waving her wand while muttering what Ron guessed were incantations. From time to time she would look green and ill, stopping while taking deep breaths before resuming her work.
Cedric, Daphne and Luna were done with their warm-ups now waving their wands and casting spells at training dummies that had been summoned inside the stadium. Ron, however, had not stopped running. It was obvious to the other three just how tired he was, his breathing came short, his speed was decreasing and his energy seemed to be dying down just like his arms and legs. In the end, he ran a total of 50 laps around the stadium.
Panting, Ron started his actual routine. Unsheathing his sword and aiming his wand at a wall he began his training.
"Repentio," a fast ball of light, shot at the wall, bouncing off it and returning to Ron, who swung his sword, sending it to another wall that did the same. It bounced off the wall, the high ceiling and the floor, alway somehow coming back to him. That was until he managed to hit Daphne as she cursed a training dummy she had recently cut with her weapons. The spell hit the back of her knee, making her kneel on the ground and making her miss her target.
"Watch it, Weasley," she said. "Or I'll be using you as a training dummy."
"It was an accident," Ron said. "Relax, Greengrass."
"Don't tell me what to do," she grumbled, going back to her exercises. "Weasel king."
Ron, who had been about to cast the same spell as before, stopped what he was doing and turned around.
"Don't call me that."
"Isn't that what you are?" she asked, mockingly. "Weasley is our king, Weasley was born in a bin, Weasley can not save a thing, That's why Slytherins all sing, Weasley is our king."
"Shut up," he barked. "We won the last match. And at least Hogwarts is aware of me."
"Guys," interrupted Luna. "We should not fight with our wands out. It could lead to an accident."
"Yes, I agree with Luna," said Cedric. "Let's not fight."
"Aware of you?" she asked, almost laughing at him while ignoring Luna and Cedric. "You mean by mocking you and telling you that your whole family belongs in the mud."
"Alright that's enough, Daphne," Cedric said a bit louder.
"At least they mock me," Ron responded. "At least I'm not so invisible that my own house barely acknowledged until I was chosen to represent them." Daphne's mirth died down at that.
"Ron," admonished Luna. "That is not a very nice thing to say."
"Oh yes," Daphne gritted her teeth. "Harry Potter's stupid best friend that got a howler on his first day back during our second year, that brought those pathetic and ridiculous dress robes to the Yule Ball, that was so pitied by Dumbledore that he got the prefect badge for it, how could I forgot your previous reputation."
"Stop it," Cedric shouted.
"Fuck you, Greengrass," Ron swore. "What was yours? Nothing? That's right! It was nothing! Because when people thought of you that's what they thought of! Nothing!"
Daphne quickly raised her wand, and so did Ron.
"Festucam!"
"Stupefy!
From Daphne's wand a barrage of sharp splinters shot at Ron, while a blinding white light came out of Ron's. Neither could dodge it, but everyone could guess who of the two was in more trouble.
"Protego!" two voices casted at the same time. Both Luna and Cedric had summoned a shield charm that protected Ron and Daphne.
"Alright you two," Cedric shouted. "20 points from Gryffindor, and 20 points from Slytherin!"
"WHAT?!" Both Ron and Daphne protested at once.
"We don't want to hear another fight from the two of you," said Luna. "We're tired of you two constantly arguing. So please try and stay civil, because Cedric and I aren't afraid to hex the two of you."
Ron looked at the two of them, he looked particularly at Luna who he had never seen gotten angry or even the least bit fired up by anything before. His eyes' gaze settled on the ground and he grumbled an agreement, Daphne did pretty much the same. A very palpable tension had settled inside the room for the rest of the session, as if a mere whisper, hiss or wrong movement would invoke a war.
Godric and Rowena walked hand in hand, his grip was tight on her delicate hand. He turned and looked at her, her grace clear as she walked. Her eyes bewitching him once more, a weakness he had never and would never curse was his weakness for her. It was easier to fall prey to his weakness regarding Rowena, than his utter fear of confronting his daughter.
And that's who they were going to see right now, it was pathetic. So very pathetic how he could not face his own daughter without holding his wife's hand. If people looked at them, knowing the truth, he knew he would be the ridicule of the school. Godric was a tall man, broad shoulders with heavy features, his beard bushy resembling the nest of a dragon according to Salazar, his frame was not a hard thing to miss. Meanwhile, Rowena was much shorter than him, looking quite small by his side as well as younger even though she was two years older than him, not an imperfection on her whole body, something he was very proud to confirm for himself.
As they walked inside the tallest tower of Hogwarts. Turning at every corner he thought of what had made him come to look for Helena. Having made love with Rowena in their private chambers, Godric had talked to her afterwards of what had happened so many weeks ago after the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. That's when she had revealed that she had indeed talked with Helena about five months after they had returned, which had prompted a fight.
Rowena, most likely to appease Godric, had suggested to accompany him to talk to Helena. Not one to turn away from a challenge whether it was intended or not, he agreed.
They search throughout the entire tower, only encountering the lingering stares from students and one couple in a tight embrace that had scattered off after realising who had caught them. It felt like an impossible task, that Godric didn't feel too bad to give up.
"Let's just go back to the stadium, Ro', our Champions need us."
"Godric," she protested. "Surely she's here."
"That may be so, but I don't have to."
"Ric'" she whispered under her breath. She had never really felt comfortable calling him by his nickname, and her pet name for him was out of the question. "She's our daughter."
"I don't deserve to call her mine," he mumbled, but she heard him regardless.
"Oh," running her hands through his mane and laying a kiss on his cheek. "You have every right. We made her. Our love made her. And if there's one thing that I was happy to bring into the afterlife, it was our love." He smiled at her. God, he adored her.
"Come on," she said, pulling him by his hand. "Let's ask some of the house ghosts."
At that Godric tensed, and Rowena could sense it.
"Not him," she said hurriedly in a tense voice. "Never him."
He nodded at her, and followed her lead as they left the tallest tower in Hogwarts.
They arrived at the lower parts of the castle near the kitchens and near the entrance of the Hufflepuff Common Room. In their search for the Fat Friar, they found her. She was sitting with her fellow house ghost, her back turned. The Fat Friar seemed quite jolly as they talked amicably. A little bit too amicably if Godric were to say so himself. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, Godric and Rowena approached the pair.
The Fat Friar's eyes seemed to pop out of their head as he spotted the pair of them walking towards them, Helena looked at what had surprised the friar and she seemed to have frozen in her place when she saw her parents. Godric froze himself, and he nearly cried out in despair Helena clearly tried to fly away from them, just to be stopped by the Fat Friar who looked at her almost pleadingly.
"Talk to him," he told her. When she looked as if she was about to protest, he hurried to add. "Just try, please."
She looked at him for a second, before her gaze settled on Godric and Rowena, and then back at the friar. She nodded at him and a small smile settled on his round face. The Fat Friar then looked at Godric and Rowena and bowed before them, floating away, but not before Godric called him out.
"Oswald?" he turned to look at Godric as he made his way into the kitchens. "You have my gratitude."
He nodded at him, an expression of humility before flying away.
Godric turned back to look at his daughter, so young. Far too young to have died at her age, and yet having lived with a father like him for far too long.
"Hello," he said, his voice quivered as tears threatened to escape his eyes. "It is good to see you, my ashy cub."
"What is it that you want, father?" she asked in a harsh tone that lacked conviction for some reason. Swallowing, he planned to make his apology short and sincere.
"I just wanted to… I just… What I want…" Words failed him. They often did in most cases, but this one truly hurt. To not even be able to admit his faults, and apologise to his own daughter, were truly a very personal punishment that fate had handed him.
"If there's truly nothing for you to say," Helena started, slowly backing away from Godric and Rowena. "Then I'll simply–"
"Helena, please," Rowena pleaded. "Just… Give your father a second." She looked at her husband, pleading at him to say something. Anything.
But he did not say anything. Anything at all. He just stood there, unable to even whisper a single apology or word of regret for his behaviour. And silver tears began to form in Helena's grey eyes, as she flew away from her parents. Paralyzed. Not even god in heaven seemed to be able to move him, Rowena was there, or perhaps not, he didn't know. He could see from the corner of his eye that she was mouthing words at him, but no sound seemed to come out. Words of soothing or perhaps she was reprimanding him, he did not know. All he knew was the pain deep inside his heart that gnawed at him like a ravenous wild dog to a bone.
Rowena pulled him away, his thoughts a mess. His eyes spouted nonsensical tears that each felt like a heavy stone coming out of his eyes. Some students had their eyes trained on them, as Rowena led him back to their chambers, it was fine. They could look. He wiped his tears from his face, and softly yanked his hand away from his wife. Heading towards their chambers, on the way he greeted very few students.
A fake smile for each, that he managed to portray just as well as he used to back when Rowena had died, Helena had left, and Salazar had turned his back from Hogwarts. When he finally arrived at his chambers he said nothing as he laid in bed, trying to let sleep drift him away. It seemed his hearing had sort of returned, as he heard Rowena talk about some elves coming to their chambers to bring him something or other. Food was it?
It didn't matter, he only nodded as his mind drifted to his little ashy cub's birth. He relished in the small comfort the memory brought him. He didn't let sleep take over him, but he wouldn't let sadness conquer him either.
Helena ran away. Again. So typical of her. But what else was she supposed to do? Stand there as her father tried to find the words to… to…
Her mind couldn't even bear the thought. Too angry, and sorrowful to even think about it.
Before she could help it, the tears began to flow, her cold existence somehow getting colder by the mere appearance of her parents. Over nine hundred years she had spent agonising over the task of not thinking about them, or Uncle Salazar, or even Aunt Helga who had been so heartbroken by Helena's death. That her own mind could not handle their return, even when she knew it would come.
Flying to the Ravenclaw Tower at the very highest place in all of Hogwarts, she wept. Her hands felt the cold tears that fell from her face, as the knot in the back of her throat seemed unable to release her from its grasp. She hated crying, nowadays and for the last fifty years all crying had felt nonsensical to her, after that poor girl Myrtle had become a ghost they would mock her crying, even going so far as to call her Moaning Myrtle, while Helena herself couldn't deny how often the girl wept it was still a very rude nickname, one that prompted her to silent the tears that from time to time threatened to escape her own contained sadness.
As she cried, she felt the presence of the Fat Friar levitating behind her.
"I know you're there, Ozzy," she said between sniffs.
"Sorry," he said hurriedly. "I'll leave you alo–"
"Please don't!" She told him. "I–I don't want to be alone, right now."
He looked at him, his brown eyes understanding as he flew to her side encircling his arms around her, she wept into the crook of his neck. It felt safe, for the very first time in months, a safe place where she could cry, or yell, or laugh as much as she wanted. Somehow warm in her ethereal form.
"Do you wish to talk about what happened, Lena?"
Such an innocent question, had she ever truly talked about what happened with her all those years ago. When Aunt Helga had asked her how she had become a ghost, she only said that the Baron was to blame, her Aunt Helga being the protective person she was offered to permanently exorcise him from the castle. Leaving him alone to wander for eternity in limbo, at the time she didn't see the point in it, they were dead now. What point was there now that both of them would spend eternity in these damned ethereal forms?
Instead she simply asked her Aunt Helga if she could make it so that she would never have to see his face ever again, and for his sins to be viewed by anyone who saw him. And so his chains surrounded his body, and she had not seen his face in almost a full century.
But with Oswald, it all seemed so freeing. To talk about herself, the students she had given advice to, the foods she fondly remembered from her life, her mother's lullabies, her Uncle Salazar's lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts, her Aunt Helga's cooking skills or her father's hunting trips were… relaxing. Talking to Oswald was like talking to someone who simply heard and held no judgement.
"It's always been like this," without any sort of plan, the words began to flow out of her. "Ever since I can remember. My father has always…" She felt choked up, as if someone was strangling her, yet there were no hands to free herself from, or a life to lose.
"Your father has always what?" Oswald asked as he rubbed her arm. Swallowing down on the invisible lump that had been lodged in her throat she took a deep breath, took on a dejected look and set her gaze away from her friend.
"He has always hated me."
One. Two. Three. Four. Five whole seconds passed, before Oswald continued rubbing her arm. His presence, although still calming, seemed more alarmed than usual.
"Ever since I can remember," she continued. "My father and I had never had a very close bond. I don't know what it was, but there was always this barrier between us. A barrier neither of us could ever bring down no matter what."
"He used to take me on hunting trips. He only ever gave a knife the size of my leg," she chuckled at the memory. "I was only ever meant to observe, but… I wanted to be like him. To provide for our family like he did, whether it was by hunting the food we needed or getting hired by a village to get rid of a nasty troll. So when I saw how he hunted our food, with his own skill and talent, I couldn't help but to ask for a bow and arrow. He used to tell me that as long as it sounded like a chicken, looked like a chicken and tasted like chicken, it would be a good dinner for the two of us. We would have to get a lot of them for my mother and Alastair, but it was worth all the trouble.
The Fat Friar could only feel sad, as her expression darkened, not in anger, but dejection and pain.
"Until it came to magic. My mother taught me everything she knew, from the simplest spell to how to turn the bullies of the school into rats. My Aunt Helga taught me her food charms, she could charm the foulest smelling, looking and tasting food into the sweetest meal your tongue would ever grace, and without any use of transfiguration. My Uncle Sal was the one to teach me all about any defensive spells that a girl who dreamed of hunting banshees would ever need… But when it came to my father… It was like the man who raised me to always reach for the unknown was gone."
"I knew about a secret magic he had created, he called it Dragon Magic. It was powerful, more powerful than anything that Uncle Sal had ever managed to create in his dungeon. With it, he became unlike any other man. My uncle said he endured five blows from the king of the giants. I saw with my own two eyes just how powerful he was, and yet… he would never teach it to me."
"It was my one wish, never granted. I never knew why, but I always suspected... That perhaps he believed me weak, unable to handle whatever was needed to attain a secret he held on his own. He would always be silent about it, never even giving me an opportunity to show him how capable I was, it was only when I was about 15 years old that I realised why. He had just come back from an important meeting with the goblins, I think he was drunk, or perhaps bewitched. I had used an entire scroll of parchment to explain my reasons for why I could handle whatever it was that he thought I couldn't."
"He yelled at me. Never once in my life had he ever yelled at me. I remember his exact words, even though they were slurred I could still understand every single one: Too weak! Don't you understand?! Can not do it! That's what he said," she felt her eyes stinging with the cold trickle of her tears. "My suspicions were confirmed and as such it was the last time I ever asked him to teach me Dragon Magic, but it was not the last time I tried to learn it."
"Even with the rejection, my hunger and thirst for Dragon Magic seemed to have increased tenfold, and after a nasty duel between my father and Uncle Sal, I could no longer restrain myself, and I… I stole my mother's diadem. I thought perhaps its powers could help me understand and replicate my father's magic. I told my mother where I would go, and that I had no intention of ever returning until my father decided to train me in Dragon Magic or I had learned it myself."
"It seems that even now," she continued, her tone beginning to sound incomprehensible from the sheer amount of snot and tears that fell from her face. "After hundreds of years, not only does he still find me weak, but he has the desire to reprimand me after all these years."
And with that she broke down crying, like a small child did when their pet died, innocent and naive to the world's true nature, for she was also blind to her own father's truth.