Status: Some chapters may be NC-17. In that case they will be labeled as such.
The Mirror of Erised
About Family.
I had never really had a close family besides my sister. My mom bled to death when Mandy was born and after that our muggle father had drawn away from us, drowning his sorrows in cheap liquor as my sister and I withered away into nothing. Had it not been for Mr. and Mrs. Bullingtons from next door we would have surely starved. They never had any children and practically adopted us as their own.
It was their house the owls delivered the letters to and it was they who took us to King’s Cross Station at the start of every school year. It was the Bullingtons who signed my Hogsmeade permission slip and gave me spending money they told me to save for emergencies but knew I would waste on Butterbeer and Puking Parcels to get out of tests I didn’t study for. It was they I considered my true parents. In fact, I wasn’t even sure my father was still alive, much less did I care.
I was thinking of them as George led me to his mother and father. George had waited patiently as I bawled, sobbing uncontrollably. He even waited until I was past the awkward sniffling and snotting stage before he suggested I needed a mother’s love to help me. I didn’t know what he meant but he hadn’t led me astray so far and, to be honest, he was the only one I felt I could trust at this point. So I followed him like a blind duckling, trusting him fully.
His father had wrapped his arm around his mother, holding her close to him as they looked at the ground, studying their feet. The mother’s eyes and nose were both red, as if she hadn’t stopped crying for the past 72 hours - which wasn’t unlikely. The father didn’t look like he had cried at all, but still his chin wobbled as if he was holding in the tears. They looked broken down, beat up but still together.
At their feet sat four ginger haired kids, obviously getting it from their parents. One girl, three boys. They all had red rimmed eyes, all looked as if they had been suckerpunched in the guts. Yet they were banded together, still a strong family unit despite everything they had been through. That was something I wasn’t used to. As George led me to them, stopping in front of his parents, I realized maybe I didn’t have the right picture of family.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t learn, right?
It was their house the owls delivered the letters to and it was they who took us to King’s Cross Station at the start of every school year. It was the Bullingtons who signed my Hogsmeade permission slip and gave me spending money they told me to save for emergencies but knew I would waste on Butterbeer and Puking Parcels to get out of tests I didn’t study for. It was they I considered my true parents. In fact, I wasn’t even sure my father was still alive, much less did I care.
I was thinking of them as George led me to his mother and father. George had waited patiently as I bawled, sobbing uncontrollably. He even waited until I was past the awkward sniffling and snotting stage before he suggested I needed a mother’s love to help me. I didn’t know what he meant but he hadn’t led me astray so far and, to be honest, he was the only one I felt I could trust at this point. So I followed him like a blind duckling, trusting him fully.
His father had wrapped his arm around his mother, holding her close to him as they looked at the ground, studying their feet. The mother’s eyes and nose were both red, as if she hadn’t stopped crying for the past 72 hours - which wasn’t unlikely. The father didn’t look like he had cried at all, but still his chin wobbled as if he was holding in the tears. They looked broken down, beat up but still together.
At their feet sat four ginger haired kids, obviously getting it from their parents. One girl, three boys. They all had red rimmed eyes, all looked as if they had been suckerpunched in the guts. Yet they were banded together, still a strong family unit despite everything they had been through. That was something I wasn’t used to. As George led me to them, stopping in front of his parents, I realized maybe I didn’t have the right picture of family.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t learn, right?
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Short, sorry. I'm trying to make the chapters longer, I'll get better at that promise!