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After the Triwizard Tournament, Hazel Potter goes through an early inheritance brought on by now being considered an adult through the tournament. Through this, she learns secrets Dumbledore never intended for her to know and she vows...
She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming; it was the only logical explanation. How else would she be in an unknown garden when she had been in her room at Malfoy Manor moments ago? Everything around her was hazy, as if she perceived her surroundings through Pilkington textured glass.
She walked over the frosted grass, her bare feet not even prickling with the cold she should've felt. Something was calling her, encouraging her further even as her mind hesitated. She walked faster, slowly gaining momentum, and before long, she was sprinting through dense forestry, her feet splashing through small streams, the dirt and dampness not sticking to her feet and bare legs, her lungs not feeling the crushing weight of the need for air.
She kept running in the direction the 'something' was calling her in, following the feeling and trying to grasp it as if it were a string being pulled away from her. She followed it until it told her to stop and found herself in a clearing. She noticed how the season differed in the clearing; while the surrounding forest was still in the throes of winter, her little meadowy clearing was thriving in summer.
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She noticed belatedly that she was not alone in this meadow; a lone figure sat beneath a large oak tree. She knew immediately that she was looking at her father, albeit a much younger version of her father; he looked how he did in his diary, perhaps a little bit older. She watched in awe as he glanced up from writing in that diary, a grin on his face that echoed her own, and she went running as fast as her legs would take her until she could throw herself at the man before her.
Tom chuckled, deep and hearty, as he soothingly stroked her hair.
"My my, little flower, how you have blossomed," he said, voice filled with pride. It was with incredible strength that Hyacinth kept the tears at bay.
"Where are you, papa?" she asked, voice thick and choked with tears. Her father shushed her calmly, sweeping a hand from shoulder to lower back and back again to soothe his daughter.
"I think you already know I cannot tell you that, little blossom. However, I know you are close to finding me, and that is all that matters. We shall be together soon, little one. Of that, I'm sure" He placed two fingers under her chin, so their eyes met. With a loving smile, he gently kissed her forehead, and the meadow around her started to blur and fade.
With a panic, Hyacinth realised that she was beginning to wake up. She tried to hold onto the image of her father as he, too, began to fade, and she sobbed as he slipped from her fingers like sand.
"Soon, little one", she heard whispered like the wind, and then she woke up. Gasping in lungfuls of air, she let out one loud sob before she cast a Tempus—5 am. Throwing the blankets from her body, she ignored Narcissa's concern and ran from her room in nothing but her nightdress to the library. She needed to find him. Not only for herself but for her mother, whom she knew missed him more the longer they were apart.
