𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 | 𝐑.𝐖 ✔︎

𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

The last time I felt this guilty over doing something was when I was thirteen.

My dear mother had made her rare yearly appearance, three days before Christmas Eve to be completely exact. I remember that day as if it was yesterday, she came into my bedroom, pinching my cheeks with so much aggression
and attempting to display her nurturing mom act that my father liked so much to everyone.

When the holiday approached, my father showered her in gifts so many gifts that I couldn't even keep count. And I hated that, I hated that because I knew what her intentions were and why she was really there. I knew that she really didn't love me or my father.

After her disappearances my father would always welcome her back into the comforts of our home with open arms, and expected me to do the same because she's close family. But the feeling that I'd get when in the same house as her was everything expect for comforting.

Leading to thirteen year old me making the decision that I wasn't going too be unsettled inside my own home. So while she slumbered, I snook into her dressing room and lit every piece of jewelry that sparked her interest the most on fire with my wand.

Gold diggers didn't like suffering lost, especially after they displayed everything to their fake friends. Which is exactly why I'd done what I did, just to underneath her skin.

Every servant and house elf that worked underneath my family spent that entire day searching for that jewelry but obviously failed. In conclusion, my mother took what little stuff she did have after my plan and made her exit during the wee hours of the night.

I remembered that I was so happy about her leaving my home, so happy about feeling very
comfortable in my own home again. So happy knowing that my father was not being used by her anymore, happy because I no longer had to put up an image that I craved.

I was joyful until I saw the look on my father face that afternoon, the sorrow look of lost and betrayal -- In a way, I believe that that was the first and last time that I actually seen another
person display love too somebody in my home.

Even though I wanted my mother out of my way the last thing that I wanted to do was hurt my father in any type of way. I felt so guilty after that, I didn't want to comfort any of my friends or come out of my bedroom.

I'd allowed my arrogance drive me to do something without considering how it will effect the people around me. Effect my father, and everything that he's sacrificed. I was being such an selfish person..

Four years later, it's quite ironic that I'm feeling that exact same thing an day after Christmas. So much guilt about what I did on Hogwarts express was eating me alive.

The smell of wisteria and my signature perfume continue to fills my nostrils as I flipped through the pages of an muggle book. It's about their perspective on crystals and how they think the stones work.

Juno's curled up on side of me, giving me a small kitten lick every other hour. Besides the soft melody playing on my stereo, the house is quiet and that is surprising because tomorrow is the party and their preparing for it.

I sent father my decorations plans for this event weeks ago and now it was just their turn to execute them perfectly. As previously stated, these parties were most definitely my favorite and I'd cry from embarrassment if I was known for throwing the worst one.

My inventions were just as extended as they needed to be -- Most pureblood family's were invited, well expect for the Weasleys of course.
And as well as the purebloods who've devoted their entire life to Voldemort --Fenrir Greyback Bellatrix Lestrange, and Barty crouch jr.