Some people found comfort in sitting next to a fireplace or having someone hold onto them and whisper sweet nothing into their ear. James Potter did not find comfort in any of these things, instead finding comfort in food, specifically sweet food th...
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chapter sixteen: like mother, like daughter
Matilda Allens had not realized something about her mother, having only been five when she died. It was that the woman was not indeed dead. Matilda looked wide-eyed at the woman who looked like her mother except older like the age she would be now. Magda Allens stood in front of her, sharing her blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore all black and Matilda could sense a dark glow around her causing her to quickly pick up the wand she had dropped and point it at the woman.
"Oh honey, you've grown so much." The woman stepped toward Matilda who deliberately took a step away from her. The woman seemed taken aback and stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide.
"Who are you? My mother is dead. So who are you?" She could feel her nails digging into her palm but she was not fazed at all. She even sounded like her mother and her skin crawled because of it. She was a girl who believed that the last member of her family had just died but here was her mother, alive. Fate had a sick and twisted way of doing things.
"It's me, sweetpea, it's mum." Matilda still gripped her wand, her heart beating hard in her chest as she looked at the woman. She couldn't believe that this woman would be her mother and how was she to prove it. Matilda shook her head slightly, her hair being blown into her face from the wind.
"When I was 5, just before you supposedly died, we went to the playground and I hurt myself and cried. I have a scar from it, where is it?" The woman sighed and gave the girl a smile, already telling Matilda what she needed to know.
"It's on your left elbow. You fell onto a piece of glass, your father and I cried when it happened, we always hated seeing you cry." Matilda faltered and put down her wand, tears gathering once again, slipping down her cheek and ending at her jaw.
"You're alive." Her hands shook violently and she looked as the woman took a step toward her, a soft smile on her face as she looked at her only child. Her mother moved forward with her arms outstretched and enveloped the girl into an awkward hug as she sobbed. She couldn't take anymore today, she was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted.
She moved away from the woman and took a step back again as she sorted herself. Yes, this was her mother but Matilda felt no attachment to the woman that was now seemingly alive and her being alive was a bit suspicious. Matilda had her memories from when she was young but they were mainly of her father who cooked her pancakes every morning and made silly faces across the table as he poured syrup. Her mother was a mystery, her grandmother didn't say much about her, evidently not liking the woman.
"How are you here? How are you alive?" She shook her head, grabbing her wand in her pocket but not immediately pulling it out, the smooth wood comforting her. She did her best to stay calm as her mother awkwardly cleared her throat and gestured inside with her hand.
