disclaimer: any character you don't recognize= me and any character you do recognize= the brilliant JK Rowling
“Maman, ou t’es?”
Her shouting, “Here!” does not help me find her. I need a location and chances are won’t get anything besides a “here.”
“Quand est-ce Papa est arriver?” I shouted, hoping she’d hear.
I looked about my room one last time, making sure I had everything. All the posters that adorned the walls were down and all my clothes were packed. My books and life have already been sent to Papa’s house. I sat down on my bare bed trying to grasp everything that has happened to me in the last month...
Maman is a model and for the last sixteen years she has been stationed in Paris and has been able to “hide” me away. It sounds bad but it would ruin her if anyone found out she has a child, so I was never allowed to go with her to any of her parties because according to her, “Anyone with a brain can tell we’re related, ma cherie, et tu sais que je t’aime.”
This lovely mother of mine has been offered a new job and is being transferred to New York City. She says there are no decent wizarding schools over there, and I am therefore going to live with my father, who I have met maybe three times. I have to kiss my beautiful Paris goodbye, say au revoir to my dear friends and leap for joy over the fact that I won’t be returning to the hell hole known affectionately as Beauxbatons.
Beauxbatons and I do not get along, well I do not get along with the headmistress Maxxie... or Maxime- depending on how much you enjoy detention, I prefer Maxxie personally. I have had more detentions than I could count and no one appreciates my “antics” or “calls for attention” according to dear Maxxie. Really, it’s because no one has a sense of humor. Whenever I would write my Papa (I never really saw him but we managed to owl one another an exorbitant amount) he always seemed to get a laugh out of what I was doing and it always seemed to cheer him up. He was also the one that would send me certain items... from a certain joke store... that helped.
Papa played quidditch for and now captains the Puddlemere United quidditch team and has a wife of his own as well as a couple of kids. Papa’s wife has a deep aversion to Maman but she doesn’t seem to dislike me considering she is the one who offered to let me stay with them when my mother decided to galavant off into the unknown. I probably get my quidditch talent from him, but I prefer chaser rather than keeper. He is always harping on me to change positions, it's a bit annoying really. My half-siblings are darling, my brother is 8 and my sister is 5. They have always sent me cards for my birthday and other random holidays and Papa has always included pictures for me.
And me? I’m the product of an "illicit adulterous tryst" (as Maman fondly calls it) between Dominique la Favre, the most sought after model in the world (she really put her magic to good use) and Oliver Wood, keeper turned captain for Puddlemere United. For having a child as young as they did, it's remarkable that there is no animosity between them. Maman once tried to explain to me the extent of their "relationship" (if one could even call it that) multiple times. Their relationship was along the lines of, "Âllo Oliver, I am in London for the night. Hope to see you later," and then him showing up, later. It was never serious and for them, it was a way to have fun as they were both in their early 20s. I was not part of the plan.
Maman will sometimes tell the story of how she told Papa she was pregnant with me, but only after an ungodly amount of pleading. She found out about me shortly after Papa decided to go steady with the woman who is now married to him. Maman apparated to his flat, found him in bed with said lady and told him she was pregnant. After Papa calmed down his girlfriend- current wife- he went to follow Maman. She being the brilliant person she is, didn't understand why Papa was upset with her. She just countered that at least she told him in person and didn't owl him the news. Maman says that he didn't really have much to say to that.
Maman would owl him updates about me every now and then and after he got married, his wife told him that he should probably meet me. Which he did, a couple weeks later when I was 4. Ever since then, Maman and Papa have become psuedo friends, and I owl him once every other week or so. It's a good system that works out for everyone.
I have unmanageable curly black hair and ice blue eyes. Maman always tells me that that we are descended from a nymph who seduced our great great great etc grandpere a couple centuries ago. All the women have inherited odd characteristics from her like Maman and I both have her eyes and hair (Maman only really uses her magic to tame her hair, I’m not that vain but I have my moments). From Papa, I received my amazing quidditch ability and my disposition of making mayhem.
I'll be turning 17 on the summer solstice (June 21) and will be starting my 7th year of school at Hogwarts. I’m pissed I won’t be able to continue my education at Beauxbatons (I mean it is my LAST year of school, why I couldn't just finish there is beyond me), but Headmistress McGonagall (or Minnie as Papa calls her) has already sent me a letter telling me that I am more than likely slightly ahead of everyone else because Beauxbatons has a more rigorous course load.
I hear Maman open the door downstairs and hear her announce up the stairs that it’s time. I stand up and look around my room once more and head down the stairs. Papa waits for me with a ridiculous grin on his face, and Maman is all teary-eyed. I turn to her and hug her. “Maman, je t'ecriverai, je promais.” She nods and tells me that she already has an apartment in the Upper East side in NYC and will be living with other Wizards in the building so she will be able to communicate freely by owl. Glad to hear I hug her one more time and tell her good bye. She nods and waves us through the door.
Papa tells me to take hold of his arm and the world starts to spin as my body compresses and I struggle to keep breathing. As soon as it starts, it ends and I find myself laying down on a patch of grass staring at the blue sky. A shadow blocks the light sunlight, and I look up to see Papa looming over me chuckling, “Time to get up darling, we’re home.” He offers a hand and he pulls me up. I follow him up to the stone mansion and before we enter the great wood doors, I take a deep breath.
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