Circi | 2

SEVEN

"Home"

New Year's Day 1994

Fireworks were still lighting up the sky early into the morning. Drunken yells of 'Happy New Year!' Carried on the air and over the Rier Estate.

Christian Rier, now knocking on sixty-three, never grew tired of the display his neighbours put on every year. They were muggles, always had been even when he was a child, who were famous in the muggle world for creating music, and then for the movies the muggles had thought were the dawn of a new era. He had never met them, never been allowed nor had he ever intended to, but they held lavish parties and their new year firework display was simple, colourful, loud and beautiful.

His new normal, since the estate no longer housed thirteen, was sitting in the garden with the love of his life, Hayley, and more often than not his nephew, Dexter.

During the war his family had fallen apart at the seams. His grandfather and sister killed, his daughters, sister and nephews lost to the death eaters, his parents, sister and niece ran away and have been unheard-of since. And, in the wake of all the chaos, with who-he-must-not-be-named dead and no one coming back to him, his descent into retirement is dependent only on his nephew and partner.

On dry nights, he took any opportunity to sit outside and watch the stars. Tonight, he was wrapped in a beige knit cardigan and breathing in the cool night air with Hayley asleep in his arms. He didn't understand how she could sleep with such a beautiful display of light above their heads and the loud bangs of the night; but he thought it fortunate for her to be tuckered out tonight, especially when the fireworks stop and the voices fade. After moving her dozing body to bed, he busied himself with cleaning up the garden. Serenading the night as he worked.

On the edge of the forest, however, where faeries used to appear regularly before the war, he heard a twig snap and a bush rustle. It was unusual because the morning is young and the air is still cold, no creatures would be around at this hour. And so, drawing his wand, he stalked towards the noise.

He could hear breathing as he approached, irregular and heavy and desperately trying to stay quiet. An intruder was the last thing he needed now, and with 44 years of service in the department of magical law enforcement, he'd be damned if he let a thief onto his grounds. Snatching at the visible arm poking out from behind the tree, he swung around, wand poised, and shoved the intruder against the tree.

A shrill cry erupted from them, and he lit his wand with a muttered 'lumos' and watched in disbelief as the woman squirmed under his hold.

This was not how Serenity expected to reunite with her father. It was dreadfully clear that Christian did not recognise this broken and unstable woman in front of him. She dressed like any other woman and looked like any other woman, but there was something in the way her eyes clawed at the darkness around them in terror that put any thoughts of violence out of his mind.

"Who are you?" He demanded, his eyes harsh and trained on her, his hold loosened, and she stopped squirming.

"It's me," she cried, "Serenity."

The wand fell from Christian's grip, lighting up the beetles that skittered between the mushed leaves at their feet. He recognised her now, eleven years older, heartbroken and scared, but he could see the eleven-year old he had waved off to Hogwarts, unaware of the danger she would soon become familiar with. Staring at her now, he felt a sudden pit of shame form in his stomach. He felt empty looking at proof that he failed as a father. She was living evidence of his regrets and his shame... he couldn't comprehend it.

Serenity dropped her head back against the tree, closing her eyes and begging not to cry again. This was not how she pictured this meeting to go. She had it all planned out. They would reunite with tears and apologies and hugs and then- then he would tell her how to get close to her daughter. It was supposed to be easy, so why can she not find the words to say what she needs to say.