Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

 

Prelude

 

1990

 

“It was so embarrassing”

“You know we can’t have them find out.”

“I could’ve lost the bloody account.”

“No, there’s nothing you can do now.”

“If only I’d known your family was so bloody odd before I’d had to marry you.”

“At least I got a son out of it.”

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and wished he knew a way to make it all stop.  He was so cold and lonely.  This miserable room was to help him build his character.  Something seemed to be working.  He used to cry when he heard them like this but now he knew better.

 

“Boy, what’s wrong with you?  You don’t have time for that sort of nonsense.  I should have known you’d be weak.  Bloody awful stock… but blood will out boy, just you mind me.  Stop that blubbering.”  And the door slammed shut.

 

He thought of his bit of peace.  She’s smart and witty but quiet.  You have to coax it out of her; she won’t share her secrets with just anyone.  Slow to trust, but when she did it would be complete.  She’s a mystery, but to him, the surest thing of all.  She loves babies and surprises… the moon when it’s just waxing… counting the stars… hot cocoa with a peppermint humbug at the bottom… loving the unlovable… and saving those that nearly can’t be.  He knew everything but her name.

 

He heard her pass his door quite a while later.  He would never dream of going to her.  He had to content himself with knowing that when it was his turn, things would go differently.

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