o. the bird's nest

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PROLOGUE
the bird's nest

PROLOGUEthe bird's nest

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     At the end of the day, the bird returns to his nest.

     Returns to his nest of collected valuables all with the purpose of safeguarding his little chicks, the little chicks who spend their days hopelessly at unrest with the prospect of a whole entire world to explore and the frustration at having to stay stuck in the same little basket of twigs and stones.

     The baby chicks just want to spread their wings.

     But the mother is also there, the mother who works far too hard to look after herself and her chicks and her mate, and despite all the hard, hard work it takes to bring up three little chicks, mother-bird is proud of all she and father-bird have accomplished between them. Their own family.

     Many years ago, at the end of the day, a younger Phoenix Greengrass returned to his Manor.

     His Manor, situated in the (currently) sunny Hertfordshire, an estate passed on from his late father, which took quite a bit of time to become a home. When Phoenix had first wed his wife, Marlowe, his father Isaac had given the newlyweds an old property of theirs to turn and renovate into their own. It was a tradition of the Greengrass family, and before Phoenix, his father Isaac had been put in the same position at the time of his wedding to his wife, Esmeralda. Each newlywed Greengrass couple would do what they wished with their property, and Phoenix is happy with how his own had turned out. A castle fit for his little princesses, a castle fit for his queen.

"Afternoon, my love," the voice of Phoenix Greengrass's enters the conservatory, finding his wife Marlowe by the oak table where they liked to eat on radiant days like this one. Phoenix drapes his cloak on the coat hook and leaves his briefcase by the door, striding over to embrace Marlowe by the waist, pressing his lips to her cheekbone.

"You're home early, darling," Marlowe expresses with a slight hum, leaning into his touch.

"The auction finished sooner than we had anticipated," Phoenix explains, Marlowe caressing the back of his head as he did so. "How have our princesses been today?"

Marlowe smiles, pivoting them around to face the open conservatory doors, where they could see three toddlers in amongst their massive garden. Little three-year-old Daphne with her two ponytails each side of her head, a massive beach ball far too big to fit her arms as she toddled towards the sandbox, where two-year-old Astoria was up to her knees in the sand, clapping her bucket and spade together. Her dark hair was amalgamated with the sand to the point it was difficult to tell if her hair was black or dirty blonde. Then there was Cassia, her own auburn hair in one ponytail with a green star clip, running along the flower patches that lead towards the back garden gate, a giddy smile to her clumsy footfalls.

GREENGRASS ━ harry james potter (2)Where stories live. Discover now