𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 || H.P

𝟕𝟗

July 11, 1998.

It was raining.

We lost everything. We were children, alone and terrified, so Grimmauld Place is where we went.

Harry told me stories. He told me about Sirius Black. He told me how little Teddy Lupin was left as his godson. We were happy, but I felt an empty void in my chest.

It was one of those days when Teddy stayed at his grandmother Andromeda's. So, we awoke peacefully, tangled in each others arms.

"Morning..." Harry mumbled, pulling me into his chest.

"Good morning." I kissed his jaw.

He smiled, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me full on the mouth. He kissed my cheeks, forehead, my neck. I scrunched my nose, grinning.

After the war, I searched for closure. There was little I didn't think about. So when the idea came to my mind, it took me weeks to come to terms with it. "Harry?"

"Hm?" He hummed.

"I think I want to visit my mother."
-

Shallow manor was cold, and it had nothing to do with the chilling rain. Harry trailed behind me, and when were reached the porch, I closed the umbrella.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked.

"Yes," I answered, confidently. I raised my hand up to the doorbell.

It rang on the inside, but no one answered.

I furrowed my brows and held my ear against the door. Silence. I knocked, multiple times, before sighing. I looked back at Harry; he blinked, confused as well.

"Alohamora."

The door clicked open, and I hesitantly stepped inside.

It smelled new. Everything was left untouched, and I began to wonder if anyone lived here at all. The first room to the right was my parent's study.

I pushed the door open, and we slipped inside. Harry flipped the lamp switch, but it was dead. "Lumos."

The books were dusty. The table was messy. The chair was squeaky. I walked around the room and swallowed. My wand light skimmed over the objects on the desk, and abruptly stopped when I spotted an extremely familiar book.

My breath hitched as I touched the cover of my sketchbook. "She kept it..." A separate piece of parchment stuck out from the middle. I opened it to the page and gasped.

"That's brilliant," Harry said, looking at the sketch over my shoulder.

"It's Harper's," I told him, clutching the book tightly. I quickly closed it and dropped it into my bag. Harry rubbed my back soothingly.

"Oh! Miss!" A squeal came from the doorway and we froze. Harry held his wand out defensively.

"Lolly?!" My eyes widened at the house elf in front of us. Harry slowly lowered his wand, surprised with my reaction. I knelt down to the elf. "What are you doing here?"

"Serving Mistress Shallow, of course!" She answered, proudly.

"You serve my mother? Why didn't you open the door?"

She looked to her feet. "Mistress Shallow does not admire much company. But Lolly is so happy to see Miss Alicia! And Mister Harry Potter!"

I blinked. "Lolly, where is my mother?"

She shook her head. "I mustn't say..."

"Please, Lolly," I pleaded.

The elf looked conflicted. Eventually, she breathed and led us to the left wing. "Come."
-

The living area was smaller than I remembered it. The trinkets and knickknacks were in all sorts of disarray. My mother sat facing the windows. Her hair was thinning, and she wore a dark cloak around her shoulders. I was starting to wonder if this really was the best idea.

"Mistress!" Lolly squeaked. "You have visitors."

"Tell them to go, Lolly." Even her voice was different.

"Mother," I spoke.

She froze. She slowly turned to us. Her face was sunken in. Her cheekbones stuck out. She had dark circles around her eyes, and her lips were no longer wine stained.

"Leave us, Lolly."

As the house elf walked past us, I smiled down at her, and mouthed, "thank you." When I looked back up, I drew in a painful breath.

Harry placed his hand on my shoulder. "It's alright. I'm right here."

I shakily stepped towards her. The closer I got, the thinner she was. Her arms were bony and brittle. I gulped. "I-I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing, Alicia?" She asked, sharply, but there was no emotion in her eyes. "You've won. You've proved us all a fool."

I shook my head. "Mother-"

"I should be apologizing," she said. "For letting them treat you the way they did." Her eyes gazed to a small portrait of my father.

It didn't matter how much he hurt her, part of her would always care for him. Reckon part of me will, too.

"Father, he's-"

"Dead," she stated, blankly. "Your father is dead. He's not here, but you are. Why reconcile with the past?"

My lip quivered. "To remember..." I wrapped my arms around my mother into a hug.

The only other time I've been held in my mother's arms was as an infant.

She held onto my arm afterwards. Her gaze was now fixed on Harry. "Potter. Come here, son."

Harry was shocked she'd even addressed him. It was like he didn't exist to her, until now. He timidly walked forwards.

My mother took his hand in hers. "Thank you," she told him, teary-eyed.

Harry's brows knit together. "I-I apologize ma'am, but... what for?"

The corners of her lips lifted into a faint smile. "For taking care of my daughter when I failed to do so myself."