The Trouble With Insanity
born into ignorance
Winifred Caillat, a tall proud woman who, even after just giving birth, looked composed and strong. Her black hair was in a tight bun and her dark, narrowed eyes stared down upon the small bundle in her arms. The baby itself did not really resemble her, except for their shared pale skin color. The child showed a tiny bit more resembled to it’s father, who also had it’s large eyes soft cheek structure.
But another thing on Winifred’s mind was that she was currently inside a hospital, instead of back at the mansion where she would have preferred to have had the baby. But oh no, her husband, being the paranoid twat that he was, had insisted at the last moment that he bring her to this vile and horrid place.
“She really is quite pretty, isn’t she?” Her husband Harold said, in regards to their child.
“Yes, she is.” Winifred said quietly, pulling back the baby’s hair, which had fallen onto it’s face. It was a only a few hairs, thin and smooth, and a faint red color. It was only another thing added to the list of characteristics the child had that her parents did not.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Harold asked as he noticed his wife’s dismay. “This should be a joyous moment for you.”
“Maybe I would be enjoying myself more if I wasn’t forced to be around these,” she lowered her voice so only he could hear, “mudbloods.”
Harold stiffened, suddenly very aware of the nurses and doctors bustling just outside the hospital room door. He had always had a certain dislike to her use of that word while outside the safety of their home, where anyone could be listening. “Yes, I know. I’m quite sick of being around them myself, but I rather go through this than have you or the baby die if a problem were to have occurred during the birth.”
“You’re so paranoid, Harold, honestly. Nothing would have gone wrong!” Winifred then handed the baby off to her husband, who took it with willing arms. “I would have been more settled there. I would have had the baby with the help of an pure-blood in-home nurse, and all would have been well.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” Harold said as he rocked the child.
Winifred looked back to the baby, her cold eyes finally showing some emotion. This was a rare occasion, for Winifred had always been taught to never show any emotions, for it spared pain in the future. Pain was losers, for Muggles… but still, she allowed herself this one little slip. “She really is beautiful.”
Harold wrapped his other arm around his wife. “Just like her mother.”
“We’ll raise her right, teach her all about blood status and whatnot.” Winifred then glanced around disdainfully around the room. “And keep her away from as many Mudbloods as possible. She won’t show any weakness. She’ll grow up to be perfect. Who knows, she might even become the Minister of Magic or something. Can’t you see it, Harold?”
Before Harold could reply, the baby began to cry. A nurse came into the room and held the baby, checking to make sure it was alright.
“The baby’s fine, but she’s fallen asleep.” The nurse said, smiling to Winifred and Harold. “I say just leave her be and get some rest yourselves.”
Winifred shot her husband a look, one that clearly said she wanted nothing more than to kill this pitiful Mudblood and go home. He squeezed her hand. The nurse left.
Two days later, the new parents left the hospital, and began to raise their one and only child.
But another thing on Winifred’s mind was that she was currently inside a hospital, instead of back at the mansion where she would have preferred to have had the baby. But oh no, her husband, being the paranoid twat that he was, had insisted at the last moment that he bring her to this vile and horrid place.
“She really is quite pretty, isn’t she?” Her husband Harold said, in regards to their child.
“Yes, she is.” Winifred said quietly, pulling back the baby’s hair, which had fallen onto it’s face. It was a only a few hairs, thin and smooth, and a faint red color. It was only another thing added to the list of characteristics the child had that her parents did not.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Harold asked as he noticed his wife’s dismay. “This should be a joyous moment for you.”
“Maybe I would be enjoying myself more if I wasn’t forced to be around these,” she lowered her voice so only he could hear, “mudbloods.”
Harold stiffened, suddenly very aware of the nurses and doctors bustling just outside the hospital room door. He had always had a certain dislike to her use of that word while outside the safety of their home, where anyone could be listening. “Yes, I know. I’m quite sick of being around them myself, but I rather go through this than have you or the baby die if a problem were to have occurred during the birth.”
“You’re so paranoid, Harold, honestly. Nothing would have gone wrong!” Winifred then handed the baby off to her husband, who took it with willing arms. “I would have been more settled there. I would have had the baby with the help of an pure-blood in-home nurse, and all would have been well.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” Harold said as he rocked the child.
Winifred looked back to the baby, her cold eyes finally showing some emotion. This was a rare occasion, for Winifred had always been taught to never show any emotions, for it spared pain in the future. Pain was losers, for Muggles… but still, she allowed herself this one little slip. “She really is beautiful.”
Harold wrapped his other arm around his wife. “Just like her mother.”
“We’ll raise her right, teach her all about blood status and whatnot.” Winifred then glanced around disdainfully around the room. “And keep her away from as many Mudbloods as possible. She won’t show any weakness. She’ll grow up to be perfect. Who knows, she might even become the Minister of Magic or something. Can’t you see it, Harold?”
Before Harold could reply, the baby began to cry. A nurse came into the room and held the baby, checking to make sure it was alright.
“The baby’s fine, but she’s fallen asleep.” The nurse said, smiling to Winifred and Harold. “I say just leave her be and get some rest yourselves.”
Winifred shot her husband a look, one that clearly said she wanted nothing more than to kill this pitiful Mudblood and go home. He squeezed her hand. The nurse left.
Two days later, the new parents left the hospital, and began to raise their one and only child.