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.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚✫*.

THE WILLOW HOUSEHOLD, LONDON

.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚✫*.

At two in the morning, Atlas Willow sat by the candlelight, reading through that yesterday's paper that had been cast aside for that very moment. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing new. The occasional moving portrait garnered her attention, always trying to sell her some sort of hair or beauty product, but only for a moment, and the same old front-page news barely fazed her anymore, seeing as they had no real images of the famed Grindelwald since his descent into madness.

The oh-so frightening caricature of Grindelwald snarled at her as she gazed upon it dismissively, almost causing her to laugh. The Daily Prophet was really going downhill and none of it was the Wizarding population's fault. They were just a shit newspaper that reported unreliable news and focused more on their gossip section rather than real-life events that would do good to inform people.

"Do you have your bag?" Atlas's mum, Roselle Willow, drew her focus away from the black-and-white print. She took a moment to flick on the main room light, blinding Atlas for just a second before her eyes were able to adjust.

"Yes, mum," Atlas responded, rolling her eyes playfully. "You know this isn't my first time making a trip to the U S of A, right?"

"I know," Roselle nodded, readjusting her shawl over her shoulders. It was still cold in their house, having taken the heating charm off the building for the summer months. Both of them were too lazy to reapply the charm, which was ridiculous considering all it took was a wave of their wands. "I'm just worried, as I am every time you make this trip... Do you have your passport?"

"Yes, mum," she answered, pulling the document from under the newspaper. She folded the glorified tabloids off the table, allowing them to fall into the bin by her feet. She blew out the candle as she stood. "And, yes, I do also have my credentials, and yes, I do have my journal and my books and my toothbrush--" she looked at her mum, a small smile on her face-- "I appreciate your concern but, I'll be okay."

Her mum looked her up and down, tears already forming at the corners of her eyes. "I'll miss you, Attie. Have you said goodbye to Maeve yet?"

"Right before she went to bed 'round eight p.m. yesterday," Atlas confirmed, moving from the opposite end of the room to stand right in front of her mother. "Are you sure you're okay with watching her for a year while I complete my studies abroad?"

"Of course," her mother brushed her off. "I love my granddaughter, even if she is just as much a pain as you were. I swear, she got all her traits from her father but still managed to retain the attitude of her mother."

A sad smile fell onto Atlas's face, remembering her daughter's father fondly. He was a distant man, one that didn't pay much attention but loved so passionately that it made it hard for her to not fall in love. He passed before their daughter was born, unfortunately, but was probably a good thing in hindsight. He never was good with children, nor did he particularly like them. It was almost better that way, no matter how morbid that sounded. Atlas would have rathered that he left them like that rather than later on in life through infidelity or a bitter spat.

"I'll miss you, though," Atlas spoke, her tone soft and tender. She leaned into her mother, wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her head on her chest as if she were a child again. "But there's really no reason to worry. You know that, right?"

Her mum nodded, pressing a kiss to Atlas's forehead as she gently rocked them back and forth. "I know," she said, lowering her own voice to match her daughter's, "I'll miss you too."

ATLAS [TAKE TWO] || N. SCAMANDERWhere stories live. Discover now