𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬'𝙨 𝙀𝙫𝙚―𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘵

October 31, 1981
Cromwell Manor
Freya Piper didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to be here. Not to be in the presence of such painful memories that left a scar on her subconsci ous. But she had to be here. Because Freya was the only one in the family, owned and disowned, to show up to the matriarch’s dying death bed. 

The half-blood’s smug smile hadn’t left her face even when her grandmother’s butler welcomed her inside the mansion of the Cromwell family. And he was just like her grandmother, seeing as he had been working for the Cromwell Family since he was a young boy. 

Barely at the age of ten because his family worked alongside the Cromwells for years before him. “Ah! Ms. Piper, it is a pleasure to see you again.” he told her as the female walked inside. 

“You can drop the formalities, Ichabod. We both know you despise my presence here. For reasons that are not my call to make.” Freya told the old butler. 

Ichabod sneered at the female. “As it may concern you, I may be seeing you more often than I care to admit.” 

Freya looked up from her small stature to the large man that towered over her. “And what is that supposed to mean?” 

Ichabod looked down past his nose at her. “You may be the last one of us by the time the night is over.” 

The way he said it made her blood run cold. Like Ichabod knew what was going to happen. Knew what would happen to the family known as Cromwell, the owned and the disowned, by the time the evening was done and over with. 

“Can I see my grandmother now?” Freya asked Ichabod as she itched her arm with her left hand. She should have cut her nails before coming over. 

The butler nodded and led the blonde female to the chambers of the Cromwell Matriarch. Where the old battered woman was keeping herself mere inches from death so she could see her family one last time. Unfortunately, her family, in her mind, did not include the half-blood witch that would soon arrive at her door. 

“Ah, Ichabod! Has Chloe, Ambrose, and Maeve arrived yet?” asked the crippling Cynthia. 

“I am afraid that the only one of your family members to arrive is Ms Piper.” Ichabod replied as he sent a disgusted look at the girl who he towered over. 

Freya sent the same disgusted look right back at him before stepping into the room. Each step was cautious as she walked closer to her dying grandmother. 

“Grandmother, it is me, Freya.” Freya grabbed a chair to sit beside her grandmother. 

The old woman sneered down at her granddaughter. “I know who you are. And you are not welcomed here. You shouldn’t be welcomed anywhere. Your kind shouldn’t be allowed to live among us. Amongst the pure.”

Freya had expected this behavior. Images of the past when her mother had left her with her grandmother when her sister couldn’t take care of her, Thea had left her daughter with her mother. The mother who resented her because of a choice she had made. 

Because the person that Thea had settled down with was not a pureblood wizard. He was a muggle. No magic. Not even a single drop of it. Which made him, to Cynthia at the very least, below her, like stepping on the peasant underneath royalty’s foot. 

“I know who you are, child.” Cynthia said to her granddaughter. “You should not have come here. I never asked for you to come here.” 

“But I am the only one who is here on your deathbed. And I only came here for one reason.” said Freya as she dismounted from the chair. 

“And what would that be, child?” Cynthia told her as Freya went to look outside the window. 

“Chloe says I should forgive you for your years of abuse on me. That in your dying hour it shouldn’t matter, but it does.” Freya turned around to look at her grandmother. “It matters because you screwed with me for twenty years. All because my mother, your own daughter, decided to make a choice that you had no control of.”

“She made the wrong choice. She made the wrong choice to create an abomination. To create you.” Cynthia told her. 

“When I was younger, what you just said would have destroyed me. I would have gone crying to my mum, but I can’t anymore. I’m an adult now. And she’s dead. Your stupid blood supremacy belief killed her. Your own daughter died fighting for a cause she believed in against a cause you believe in. How could you let this family separate from each other? Drawing battle lines because of something so stupid?” Freya told her. 

“Because of Natural Selection. It weeds out the weak. You people are weak. With all of your backwards beliefs.” Cynthia told her. 

Freya chortled. “You know stuff like that was what messed me up. But now, I know. Chloe was right I should forgive you, but I can’t. Because I don’t care anymore. We can win this war. The Order of the Phoenix will win.” 

“With what? Their one chance will die before he has a chance to do anything about it.” Cynthia said. “Get out of my sight.” 

“I don’t care about you. But you should. But you don’t. And it’s not right. Because you need to get with the times. We wouldn’t want any incest babies that get sterile on us sometime down the line, right?” Freya said before she walked out of the room and out of the manor and off the grounds of the Cromwells. 

Hopefully she won't have to come back here anytime soon. But sometimes Hope is a long shot of a chance. 

November 1, 1981
Piper Cottage
The day after Halloween of the Year 1981 started out rather odd to her. For starters, there was a different color to everything now. Like she had missed something after it had stopped raining after she went to bed. Freya began the morning like any other morning and began making breakfast. 

And seeing as the door was Sunday, that meant that Freya was to make pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast before letting her three dogs outside. Then, Freya headed outside to find the mail that had been dropped on her doorstep. 

Freya Piper looked at the mail that was laying on the ground and stopped in her tracks. This can;t be happening. Surely, this wasn’t happening to her right now. A letter with her name and address was staring right back at her on top of a crying bundle that held a baby. Freya picked up the letter and read only the first line.

Dear Freya, 

Your cousin, Chloe Cromwell, is dead. Along with her parents, Ambrose and Maeve. They were killed by Lord Voldemort. However, the last surviving member of the Cromwell Name is this child. Her name is Persephone. You’re the only one who can protect and love her now. 

The only one who can protect and love her now. So Freya Piper looked over at the child who couldn’t have been older than a year old. She has her father’s hair, but her mother’s face. Maybe she has her mother’s eyes as well. But in the letter, it was wrong. 

No more Cromwells exist now. Only Pipers. But this girl was neither a Piper nor a Cromwell. She was someone else.  She was a Black like her father before her. So Freya brought the child-and her mail-into her home. Because who else could love and protect the daughter of her cousin who was Freya's best friend? No one.