Gemma Greengrass paced along the veranda of her sprawling farmhouse, the gentle summer breeze playing with the hem of her light skirt. She paused at the sight of Draco Malfoy approaching, his typically composed demeanor challenged by the tension in the air.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. "Mrs. Greengrass, thank you for agreeing to speak with me."

Gemma crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "I didn't agree to anything, Malfoy. You're here because Astoria married you, not because I'm interested in making your acquaintance."

Draco's jaw tightened slightly, but he pressed on. "I understand your concerns. But I assure you, my past affiliations—"

"—are exactly why we're having this conversation," Gemma interjected sharply. "I know exactly who you are and what you've done. Being acquitted doesn't change that."

Draco took a step forward, his tone defensive. "I've paid my dues to society. I'm not here to dredge up the past. I'm here because Astoria is my wife, and I intend to be a part of her family's life."

Gemma's eyes narrowed. "And what do you intend to bring into our lives, Malfoy? More dark magic? More ideas of blood superiority?"

"I've changed," Draco insisted, though his voice lacked conviction even to his own ears. "I've distanced myself from those beliefs."

"Yet here you stand, in my home, where my children play freely," Gemma shot back, a hint of anger in her voice. "I won't have you poisoning their minds with your ideology."

At that moment, Cloelia skipped out onto the veranda, a doll clutched tightly in her hand. "Mummy, who's this man?"

Gemma knelt down, placing a reassuring hand on Cloelia's shoulder. "This is Mr. Malfoy, dear. He's here to talk to us."

Cloelia eyed Draco curiously, her innocent gaze unclouded by the family tension. "Are you a wizard too?"

Draco managed a strained smile. "Yes, I am. I used to go to Hogwarts, just like your mummy."

Cloelia's eyes widened with excitement. "Do you know any magic tricks?"

Draco glanced at Gemma, unsure of how to proceed. "Well, I... I used to know some tricks. Maybe I could show you one day."

Cloelia beamed, her distrust forgotten for the moment. "That would be amazing! Mummy, can Mr. Malfoy come to my birthday party?"

"No dear," Gemma said firmly, "Mr Malfoy will not be coming to your birthday party."

Cloelia's face fell at her mother's firm refusal. Her excitement quickly gave way to disappointment, and she looked up at Gemma with wide, searching eyes. "But why not, Mummy? Mr. Malfoy seems nice. Please?"

Gemma knelt down to Cloelia's level, her expression softening slightly despite her resolve. "Sweetheart, Mr. Malfoy is a very complicated person, and it's not safe for him to be around right now. I want you to have a wonderful birthday with people who love you and are safe."

Cloelia's lower lip quivered slightly, and she clutched her doll tighter. "But I really wanted him to come. Can't we just invite him for a little bit?"

Gemma gently wiped a tear from Cloelia's cheek and shook her head. "I'm sorry, darling. Maybe we can have a special surprise for your birthday that will be just as magical."

Cloelia's initial disappointment quickly flared into frustration. Her small face reddened, and she stomped her foot, her voice rising in defiance. "It's not fair! I wanted Mr. Malfoy to come! You never let me have any fun!"

Gemma's expression hardened with a mix of sadness and resolve. "Cloelia, please calm down. It's not about fun. It's about keeping you safe."

Cloelia crossed her arms and glared at Gemma, tears welling up in her eyes. "But I don't care about safety! I just wanted him to come to my party. Why can't you ever let me have what I want?"

Cloelia's outburst was met with a shocking reaction. Gemma's face flushed with anger as the words "I don't care about safety" echoed in her ears. Her own trauma and the loss of her loved ones surged to the forefront of her mind, overwhelming her ability to reason calmly.

"Don't you dare say that!" Gemma's voice was a roar, filled with fury. She grabbed Cloelia's shoulders roughly, shaking her slightly. "How can you be so selfish?"

Cloelia's eyes widened in fear, her previous defiance replaced by confusion and terror. Gemma's hand struck out, landing a stinging blow on Cloelia's arm, her emotions unchecked. She felt a surge of guilt immediately, but her anger clouded her judgment.

"Why can't you ever understand?" Gemma's voice cracked as she continued, her anger spilling over. "You're a spoiled brat, and you don't appreciate anything! The party is off!"

Cloelia burst into tears, recoiling from the harshness of her mother's words and actions. She stumbled away, her sobs echoing through the hallway.

Gemma stood there, her hands trembling, the full weight of her actions crashing down on her. Her own anger had led her to hurt the one she wanted to protect, leaving her to grapple with the crushing reality of her actions and the pain she had inflicted on her daughter.

Cloelia's world seemed to shatter with each of her mother's words and actions. Her tiny body shook as she backed away from Gemma, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her arm stung where her mother had struck her, and she couldn't understand why Mummy was so angry.

"Mummy hurt me," she thought, her sobs growing louder. She clutched her doll tightly, seeking comfort from its soft, familiar presence.

Cloelia's mind raced with confusion. Mummy was always supposed to make things better, not worse. She felt a deep sense of betrayal, as if everything she had believed about Mummy was unraveling. "Why did Mummy hit me?" she wondered, her five-year-old mind struggling to grasp the gravity of the situation.

The word "spoiled" echoed in her head. She wasn't sure what it meant, but it sounded bad, and she felt like she must have done something terribly wrong to make Mummy so upset. "I just wanted Mr. Malfoy at my party," she thought miserably. "Why can't I have what I want?"

Cloelia stumbled to a corner of the room, her sobs now muffled by her doll. She wanted to call out for Mummy to come and make things right, but fear and confusion made her voice catch in her throat. The idea of the party being cancelled made her heart ache even more, as if Mummy had taken away a part of her happiness.

In her small world, all she could grasp was the overwhelming sadness and the fear that Mummy might not come to her rescue. She hugged her doll tightly, wishing for things to go back to how they were before everything had gone wrong.

Ralston stepped into the farmhouse, weary from a long day at the fields. As he hung up his coat, he heard the muffled sound of Cloelia's sobs from the other room. Gemma's tense voice followed.

"What happened?" Ralston asked, noticing Gemma's strained expression as she emerged from the hallway.

"Cloelia's been very upset," Gemma said, her tone heavy with frustration. "She threw a tantrum because I told her Mr. Malfoy couldn't come to her birthday party. She said she didn't care about safety and just wanted him there."

Ralston sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And then what happened?"

Gemma's eyes were red-rimmed as she continued. "I lost my temper. I… I hit her. I didn't mean to, but she just kept shouting, and I couldn't control myself. I told her the party was off."

Ralston's face grew serious. "You know how I feel about discipline. But this..."

Gemma interrupted, her voice wavering. "I know, Ralston. I just— I let my anger get the best of me."

Ralston took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. "I understand your anger, but hitting her was too much. She's just a little girl."

"I know," Gemma said, her voice breaking. "I'm worried I've made things worse. She's been so upset. I don't know how to fix it."

Ralston put a hand on Gemma's shoulder. "Let's talk to Cloelia. She needs to know that we're here for her. We need to make things right."

They walked together to where Cloelia sat huddled in the corner of the room, clutching her doll. Ralston approached gently, kneeling down to her level. "Cloelia, sweetheart, can we talk?"

Cloelia's tear-streaked face looked up at him with red, puffy eyes. She sniffled and nodded, but didn't say anything.

Ralston spoke softly. "I'm sorry you're upset. Mummy and I were talking, and we want to understand what happened."

Cloelia's voice was a whisper. "Mummy said Mr. Malfoy can't come to my party. I just wanted him to come. And then she got mad and hit me."

Ralston's expression softened. "I'm sorry you were hurt, Cloelia. Mummy shouldn't have hit you, and we're going to make sure that doesn't happen again. But we also need to talk about why Mummy was so upset."

Cloelia clutched her doll tighter. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want Mummy to say sorry."

Gemma's face reddened with frustration as Cloelia's words hit a nerve. "You don't get to demand an apology, Cloelia! You were the one who was being selfish and disrespectful! You kept saying you didn't care about safety!"

Ralston's jaw tightened. "Gemma, let's not—"

But Gemma, already on edge, cut him off. "No, Ralston. Cloelia needs to understand that her behavior contributed to this situation."

Cloelia's face crumpled, tears spilling freely as she clutched her doll even tighter. "But I just wanted Mr. Malfoy at my party!"

Gemma's frustration boiled over. "And you didn't think about how dangerous it could be, or how we've all been hurt by people like him? Your tantrum didn't make things better!"

Ralston's temper flared in response. "Gemma, this isn't helping. Yelling at her isn't going to fix anything."

Gemma shot him a look of anger. "She's the one who's been unreasonable, not me!"

Cloelia's sobs grew louder, her small body trembling. Ralston took a deep breath, trying to regain control. He moved closer to Cloelia, his tone softer but still firm. "Cloelia, I'm sorry you're upset. But we need to understand why Mummy was so angry, and why we have to be careful about who we let in our lives."

Gemma's anger began to subside as she saw the pain on her daughter's face. She took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. "Cloelia, I'm sorry I hurt you. I was wrong to lose my temper. But we need to talk about how to handle these things better in the future."

Cloelia looked up, still crying, her face a mixture of confusion and hurt. "So… no party?"

Gemma nodded, firmly but not devoid of compassion, saying "no party."

Cloelia's lip trembled as she took in her mother's confirmation. "No party?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gemma nodded, her heart heavy. "I'm afraid so, sweetheart. We need to focus on understanding and fixing things first."

Cloelia's tears flowed more freely, and she let out a small, heart-wrenching sob. Her tiny body seemed to collapse inward, her hands gripping her doll as if it were her only source of comfort. She had been so excited about her birthday, imagining the games, the cake, and the fun she had hoped to share with Mr. Malfoy.

"B-but… I wanted it so much," she stammered, her voice breaking. "I made drawings for the party and—" Her words were lost in a fresh wave of sobs. "I wanted everyone to come, and now… now it's all gone."

She buried her face in her doll, her cries muffled against its soft fabric. Her small shoulders shook with each sob, and she hiccupped between breaths, trying to make sense of why her eagerly awaited celebration was being taken away.

"I don't understand," Cloelia wailed. "I was going to wear my new dress, and we were going to play with balloons and have a big cake. Why can't I have my party?"

Gemma's eyes filled with tears as she watched her daughter's distress. "I know, honey. I'm so sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to it. But we need to be safe, and we need to make sure we're making good choices."

Cloelia clutched her doll tighter, as if trying to hold onto her vanishing excitement. "But I don't want to be safe," she cried out. "I just want my party! I want to have fun with my friends. I want it all back!"

Her cries grew louder, echoing through the room as her disappointment and hurt overwhelmed her. She fell to the floor, sitting in a heap, her tears soaking into the carpet. "It's not fair! I just wanted to have a good time."

Cloelia's words hit a raw nerve for both Gemma and Ralston. Hearing her dismiss the importance of safety yet again reignited their frustration.

Gemma's face contorted with anger. "How can you say that again, Cloelia? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to ignore safety?"

Ralston's voice was stern, his patience wearing thin. "If you keep saying you don't care about safety, you won't be allowed to have friends over anymore. We can't risk it."

Cloelia's eyes widened in shock and fear. The threat of losing her friends was too much for her young mind to handle. Her tears, which had been flowing steadily, now turned into an uncontrollable torrent. She cried harder, her sobs echoing through the room, and she began to scream, her voice raw with desperation.

"No, no, no!" she wailed, her small fists pounding the floor in frustration. "I want my friends! I want my party! Why are you so mean?" Her cries were heart-wrenching, filled with a mix of sorrow and anger that only a five-year-old could express.

Gemma and Ralston's anger began to dissolve into guilt and regret as they watched their daughter's meltdown. They realized the depth of her distress and how their harsh words had impacted her.

Cloelia's sobs grew louder, and she screamed through her tears. "I want my friends! I want my party! I hate this! I hate you!" Her words, though born of a child's frustration and pain, stung deeply.

Gemma's heart broke as she knelt down beside Cloelia, trying to reach out to her. "Cloelia, sweetheart, please listen. We're not trying to be mean. We just want you to be safe."

But Cloelia was inconsolable, her cries not subsiding. "I don't care about safe! I want my friends! I want my party!" she repeated, her voice hoarse from crying.

Ralston sighed heavily, his own frustration giving way to a sense of helplessness. He knelt beside Gemma, his voice softer. "Cloelia, we understand you're upset, but we need you to understand why we're doing this. We love you, and we want to keep you safe."

Cloelia's sobs continued, but the fight seemed to drain out of her as she realized her parents weren't going to budge. She buried her face in her doll, her cries muffled but still heart-wrenching. "I just wanted my party," she whimpered between sobs.

Gemma and Ralston shared a look of sorrow and determination. They knew they had to find a way to help Cloelia understand the importance of safety while also finding a way to heal the hurt caused by the day's events. For now, all they could do was try to comfort their daughter and hope that time would help mend the rift.

When Theodore walked in, his innocent observation turned into an unexpected mockery. "Why are you crying like Alexis? Are you still in a nappy or something?" he asked, giggling at his own joke.

Cloelia's face flushed with anger and humiliation. Fueled by frustration and her already heightened emotions, she lunged at Theo, swinging her tiny fists. Her actions were a desperate attempt to retaliate against the unfairness of the situation and her brother's teasing.

Gemma and Ralston, already on edge, witnessed the scuffle with growing frustration. Gemma's patience snapped. "Cloelia, that's enough!" she exclaimed sharply, moving quickly to separate the children.

Ralston's face darkened as he stepped in to take control. "Cloelia, we've already talked about your behavior today. This fighting is unacceptable."

Cloelia, still seething, tried to argue through her tears. "But Theo was being mean! He was making fun of me!"

Ralston took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "I understand you're upset, but fighting isn't the answer. Because of what happened today and your behavior, you're grounded for a week. You will stay in your room, except for bathroom breaks. Meals will be brought to you there."

Gemma nodded in agreement, her voice steady but firm. "You need to learn that lashing out isn't acceptable, and you need time to reflect on how you handle these situations. We will help you understand better, but right now, you need to calm down and think about your actions."

Cloelia's eyes widened in shock and hurt as she realized the full extent of her punishment. She began to cry harder, her frustration and sense of injustice boiling over. "But that's not fair! I just wanted my party! Why can't you understand?"

Gemma's heart ached as she watched her daughter's distress, but she remained resolute. "It's not about being fair or unfair, Cloelia. It's about learning how to handle your emotions properly. We'll help you, but you need to take responsibility for your actions."

Ralston gently guided Cloelia to her room, ensuring she had everything she needed for her stay. The decision was tough, but he and Gemma hoped that the time alone would help Cloelia process her feelings and learn from the day's events.

Given Cloelia's age and the intensity of her emotions, it's plausible that she might lose her temper further. Here's how that scenario could unfold:

--

As Ralston guided Cloelia to her room, her distress and anger boiled over. She stomped her feet and shouted, "This isn't fair! I hate this! You're being mean!"

Gemma, already worn thin by the day's events, tried to remain calm. "Cloelia, you need to go to your room now."

But Cloelia, overwhelmed by her feelings and the perceived injustice, flung herself at Gemma, her small fists swinging in a futile attempt to express her frustration. "I don't want to! I hate you!"

Ralston quickly intervened, stepping between Cloelia and Gemma to protect her. "Cloelia, stop it!" he commanded firmly. "Attacking us won't solve anything. You need to calm down."

Cloelia's outburst was short-lived but intense. She hit the doorframe with her fists, her cries now mingling with frustrated shouts. "I want my party! I want to be with my friends! I hate being grounded!"

Ralston's patience snapped as Cloelia continued to lash out. "Cloelia, enough!" he said, his voice a mixture of anger and disappointment. He grabbed her firmly and, in one swift motion, sat down and placed her over his knee.

Cloelia, realizing what was happening, tried to wriggle free, but Ralston held her securely. "This behavior is unacceptable," he said, his voice stern. He delivered several firm spanks, each one intended to make it clear that her actions had serious consequences.

Cloelia's cries turned from anger to pain and shock. "Stop! Please, Daddy! I'm sorry!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face.

Ralston stopped after a few more spanks and lifted her up, setting her on her feet. He looked into her eyes, his expression serious. "Cloelia, you have been a spoiled brat today, and we will not tolerate this behavior. You need to learn to control yourself and understand that actions have consequences."

Cloelia's sobs continued, her anger now replaced by a deep sense of remorse and hurt. "I'm sorry," she cried, hugging her doll tightly.

Gemma, though shaken by the intensity of the situation, stepped forward and gently took Cloelia's hand. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go to your room and calm down."

Cloelia, subdued and tearful, allowed herself to be led to her room. Gemma helped her onto her bed and tucked her in, her voice softer now. "You need to stay here and think about what happened. We love you, but you need to learn that this kind of behavior isn't acceptable."

Cloelia nodded weakly, her sobs slowly subsiding as she clutched her doll. "I'm sorry, Mummy. I just wanted my party."

"I know, sweetie," Gemma said, brushing a tear from Cloelia's cheek. "We'll talk more about this later. For now, rest and think about how you can do better."

As Gemma left the room, closing the door behind her, she and Ralston exchanged a weary look. The day had been long and difficult, but they hoped that the tough lessons learned would help Cloelia grow and understand the importance of respect and self-control.

Cloelia lay in her bed, clutching her doll tightly, her tears now quiet but persistent. The sting from her father's spanking still lingered, and her heart ached with a mixture of pain and confusion.

She kept replaying the events of the day in her mind. The excitement she had felt about her birthday party had been so vivid, full of bright colors, laughter, and her friends. She had imagined everything—her new dress, the games, and the cake. But then, it all came crashing down.

When Mr. Malfoy came to the house, she had been so happy, hoping he would come to her party. But Mummy had said no, and she didn't understand why. She had been so upset and angry that she couldn't see why her parents were making this decision. All she could think about was how unfair it felt and how her party was slipping away from her.

When she had tried to argue and lash out, it only seemed to make things worse. The more she cried and screamed, the more her parents seemed to get angry. She felt like they didn't understand how much she wanted her party, and their words about safety felt like they were taking away everything she cared about.

Then Theo had come in, and his teasing had been the final straw. Her anger and sadness boiled over, and she had tried to hit him. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone; she just wanted someone to understand her frustration. But instead, her parents had reacted with a harsh punishment, and the spanking had been the hardest part. It had hurt, and she felt ashamed and scared.

Now, as she lay alone in her room, she felt a deep sense of loneliness. She missed the comfort of her parents and the safety of her family's love. The room felt too quiet, too big, and she wished she could undo everything that had happened.

She looked at her doll, holding it close as if it could make everything better. Her thoughts were jumbled. Did she really not care about safety? She hadn't meant it that way. She just didn't understand why everything was so complicated.

As her sobs subsided, Cloelia tried to think about what her parents had said. They had talked about learning and understanding, but all she felt was sadness. She wanted to make things right, but she didn't know how. The idea of being grounded and having to stay in her room felt like an endless punishment, and she longed for things to go back to how they were before.

She closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would bring some relief and clarity. Maybe, in the morning, things would seem different, and she would understand more. For now, all she could do was lie in bed and hope for a better tomorrow.

The next morning, Gemma entered Cloelia's room quietly, her face etched with a mixture of sadness and resolve. Cloelia was sitting on her bed, her doll clutched close to her chest as she stared out of the window, lost in thought.

"Good morning, Cloelia," Gemma said softly, her voice gentle but firm.

Cloelia looked up, her eyes still red from crying. "Good morning, Mummy."

Gemma sat down beside her on the bed. "I want to talk about what happened yesterday."

Cloelia nodded, her grip on her doll tightening. "Okay."

Gemma took a deep breath. "We've decided that, as a consequence of your behavior, you won't be allowed to have friends over for a while."

Cloelia's eyes widened in shock. "No! You can't do that! It's not fair!"

Gemma's expression remained serious. "Cloelia, we talked about this. Your actions yesterday showed that you weren't thinking about the consequences or respecting the rules. We need to ensure that you understand why your behavior was unacceptable."

"But I didn't mean to be bad!" Cloelia protested. "I just wanted Mr. Malfoy at my party. I didn't want all this to happen."

"I understand you were upset," Gemma said gently, "but lashing out and not considering safety isn't acceptable. We have to follow through with consequences to help you learn."

Cloelia's lip trembled as she tried to hold back tears. "Does that mean I can't see my friends at all?"

"For now, yes," Gemma said. "We need to focus on improving your behavior and understanding why these rules are important. It's not forever, but it's necessary right now."

Cloelia's tears spilled over. "But I miss them! I want to play with them. Why do I have to be punished like this?"

Gemma reached over and gently took Cloelia's doll from her hands. "I'm also going to need to take this for a little while. It's important that you have some time to think about your actions without distractions."

When Gemma told Cloelia that she couldn't have friends over and that her beloved doll would be taken away, Cloelia's eyes filled with terror and disbelief.

"No, Mummy, please!" Cloelia cried, clutching her doll tighter. "Don't take her! I promise I'll be good! I just want my party and my friends!"

Gemma gently but firmly took the doll from Cloelia's grasp. "I know this is hard, Cloelia. But you need to understand why this punishment is necessary."

Cloelia's face twisted with a mix of fear and anger. She started to wail uncontrollably. "It's not fair! I hate you, Mummy! I hate everything!"

She kicked her legs against the bed and pounded her fists into her pillow. "I want Dolly! I want my friends! I want everything back the way it was!"

Gemma, feeling a pang of guilt, sat down beside her. "Cloelia, you're acting out because you're upset, but yelling and hitting won't change the consequences. We need you to learn from this."

Cloelia's sobs grew louder, her voice breaking with frustration. "But why does this have to happen to me? I didn't mean to be bad. I just wanted to have fun!"

Her cries were heart-wrenching, and she flung her little body around the bed, her distress palpable. "Please, Mummy! I'm sorry! Please, let me see my friends! Please give me Dolly back!"

Gemma's heart ached as she watched her daughter's intense reaction. She reached out to comfort Cloelia, rubbing her back soothingly. "I know you're upset, but this is about helping you understand why we have rules and why they matter. We'll talk more about this later, but right now, you need to calm down."

Despite Gemma's soothing tone, Cloelia continued to sob uncontrollably. The loss of her doll and the ban on friends felt like a crushing blow to her tiny world. Her cries echoed through the room, a stark reminder of the emotional toll the situation had taken on her young heart.

Gemma left the room, hoping that Cloelia would eventually calm down and begin to process her feelings. She knew that the punishment, though severe, was intended to help her daughter understand the importance of respect and responsibility. But seeing Cloelia in such distress was heart-wrenching, and Gemma hoped that with time, they could help her come to terms with the consequences and learn from the experience.

As Cloelia's sobs filled the room, something inside her seemed to snap. In her desperation, she reached out instinctively, not with her hands but with her emotions. She felt an intense pull, and suddenly, her doll flew off the dresser and landed back in her arms.

Cloelia looked down at the doll in surprise, her tears momentarily forgotten. She hugged it tightly, as if afraid it would be taken away again. The comfort of holding her beloved doll calmed her, even if just a little.

Gemma, who had been standing just outside the door, heard the commotion and re-entered the room. Her eyes widened as she saw Cloelia clutching the doll that had been on the dresser moments before.

"Cloelia," Gemma said slowly, her voice a mix of shock and concern. "How did you get Dolly back?"

Cloelia looked up at her mother, still sniffling. "I don't know, Mummy. She just… came back to me. I wanted her, and she came."

Gemma sighed, recognizing the signs of accidental magic. It wasn't uncommon for young witches and wizards to manifest their emotions this way, but it complicated things.

"Cloelia, listen to me," Gemma said, kneeling down to her daughter's level. "I know you're upset, and I know how much you love Dolly, but taking her back like this isn't going to help."

Cloelia's lower lip trembled, and fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "But I need her, Mummy. I'm sorry. Please don't take her away again."

Gemma softened, feeling torn. She knew she had to stay firm, but seeing Cloelia so distressed was hard. "Sweetheart, I'm going to put Dolly back on the dresser. You need to show me that you can calm down and understand why you're being punished."

Cloelia's grip tightened on the doll. "No, Mummy, please! I'll be good! Don't take her away!"

Gemma gently but firmly pried the doll from Cloelia's hands, despite her daughter's renewed cries. "Cloelia, I'm putting an anti-summoning charm on Dolly so that you can't bring her back to you this way. It's important that you learn to follow the rules, even when it's hard."

She stood up, taking the doll with her, and waved her wand over it, casting the charm. She placed the doll back on the dresser, where it now sat motionless, protected by the spell.

As Gemma placed the doll back on the dresser, Cloelia's eyes flared with anger and desperation. She sat up quickly, her face flushed with frustration.

"No, Mummy!" Cloelia shouted, her voice rising. "You can't do that! I want Dolly! I need her!"

Gemma turned to face her, trying to stay calm despite the rising tension. "Cloelia, we've talked about this. Dolly needs to stay on the dresser until you've calmed down and shown that you understand why you're being punished."

Cloelia's fists clenched at her sides, and she glared at the doll as if willing it to come back to her again. "It's not fair! You're being so mean! I didn't do anything wrong!"

Gemma crossed her arms, her expression firm. "Cloelia, you know that's not true. You've been very upset, and you haven't listened to us. That's why you're being punished."

"I don't care!" Cloelia shouted, tears of anger and hurt streaming down her face. "I want Dolly! I want my party! I want everything to be normal again!"

She jumped off the bed and stomped over to the dresser, reaching out to grab the doll herself. But as she tried to pick it up, the anti-summoning charm prevented her from even lifting it. The doll remained rooted to the spot.

Cloelia screamed in frustration, hitting the dresser with her tiny fists. "Why won't you let me have her? I hate this! I hate you!"

Gemma's heart ached, but she knew she had to stand her ground. "Cloelia, stop this right now. Yelling and screaming won't change anything. You need to calm down."

But Cloelia was beyond calming down. She kicked the dresser, and her kick was filled with all the frustration she could muster, but as her small foot connected with the hard surface, she instantly cried out in pain. The sharp sting from stubbing her toe made her gasp and hop on one foot.

"Ow! Ow, ow!" she cried, her voice breaking into a wail. She clutched her injured foot, tears welling up in her eyes as she crouched down on the floor. The pain was overwhelming, and she forgot her anger for a moment as she focused on the throbbing pain in her toe.

Gemma quickly moved to her side, kneeling down to check on her. "Cloelia, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

Through her tears, Cloelia looked up at Gemma with a mix of pain and frustration. "My toe hurts so much, Mummy! I hate it!"

Gemma gently helped her sit on the bed, examining her toe. "I'm sorry you're in pain, sweetie. I know this is a tough time, and I wish things could be different. But hurting yourself won't help."

Cloelia sobbed, holding her foot close and rubbing it. "I just wanted Dolly back! It's not fair!"

Gemma nodded, her heart aching at her daughter's distress. "I understand, Cloelia. It's hard when things don't go the way we want. But we still need to stick to the rules to help you learn."

Cloelia continued to cry, the pain in her toe mingling with her emotional hurt. "It hurts so much, Mummy! I want it to stop!"

Gemma gently stroked her daughter's hair. "I know, sweetheart. Let's take a moment to calm down. I'll help you with your toe, and we can talk more once you're feeling a bit better."

As Gemma comforted Cloelia, she hoped that this small moment of pain would help her daughter see that acting out in frustration could lead to more trouble. For now, Gemma focused on soothing Cloelia, both physically and emotionally, hoping to ease her distress and prepare her for a better understanding of the situation later.