His eyes followed the family from his hiding place on the top of the roof. He peered straight through the wood that covered the top of the cottage. The women carried her son. She was thin, but a noticeable baby bump was starting to peek out from under her apron. Long red hair framed her face; bright brown eyes looked at her husband. It had to be Harry Potter, the one who killed Voldemort, who brought an end to the great victory the Death Eaters were so close to having, and his family. He watched as Harry swiftly kissed his wife, whatever her name was. Was it Jennifer or Gertrude? No, it was Gabby…
Never mind that, he must focus on the child. He was, after all, first on the list. The man thought the boys name was James. How could he get to the boy with his mother always holding him, or his father constantly watching to make sure he was okay? The women handed James to Harry and started to make dinner. Ah, dinner…
the man thought as his stomach gave a little roar. Just one more place, then he could return to his own home.
Harry stepped outside with James. His eyes missed the man by an inch as he glanced at the sky above. I have to go…
the man thought anxiously as Harry lay down on a hill with James next to him. Harry was at a level where he could easily see a man on top of his roof. Thank goodness, Ginny had just walked outside, causing a perfect distraction.
Now! he thought urgently as he apparated to a new rooftop, only a few houses away from Harry Potter’s house. This cottage was almost exactly the same size as Potter’s, but it had a different look. Instead of the wooden cottage, this one was covered from head -to -toe in the large stone that the Potters house had at the bottom of their residence. The gabled roof had burgundy tiles covering it. A large fireplace rose from the side of the house.
The roof was so pointed it was hard to gain a grip. One of the tiles he was trying to hold fell and hit the ground with a soft thud. The man peered through the roof, like he was looking through a Pensieve. His eyes fell on a young ginger haired man. Then he found who he was searching for. A slender girl with long layered brown hair and chocolate colored eyes sat across from the redheaded man. She looked to be the same age as the man; mid to early twenties. She was laughing at an apparently amusing joke. This had to be Hermione.
She was second on the list. If the man’s sources were correct, she was expecting a child. It was hard to tell, but if he squinted he could almost make out the tiniest bump in her stomach. The couple sat eating some sort of stew or soup. They were talking about something, maybe even the list… he thought. There was no way of telling; he had forgotten the extendable ears at his house. Either that or he lost them.
His thoughts were getting too of course. Focus, he thought. There was a reason for this little expedition; he had to figure out a way to get the girl, to get everyone on the list. Hermione would be harder; she was a very powerful, nearly full-grown witch. This would be all worth it if he did get a hold of her. The effect this would have on Harry Potter would be brilliant, he knew it.
He hadn’t realized it, but he was slipping. He tried to apparate but couldn’t focus on his destination. “Impedimenta!” He screamed without thinking. His fall slowed about twelve inches before he would have hit the ground.
He heard people coming; it had to be the Ginger or Hermione. The man came first, his wand held high. Half a second later, Hermione came with her wand at the ready. He caught the man’s blue eyes for a split second and just as Hermione yelled “Confundus!” he apparated.
Mara helped him up. Her long choppy cut black hair and ice colored eyes followed him as he got to his feet. “Are you okay?” She asked in her rough irish accent.
“Yes, I’m fine Mara,” he sighed.
“Were have you been, anyway?” Mara asked suspiciously
“Gone, okay? Now are you gonna feed me or not?” He asked, agitated.
She gave an exasperated sigh and asked, “Is that anyway to talk to your wife?”
He thought, and finally his stomach growled so loud he was afraid Mara could hear it. If it gets me food, I’ll get down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness… “Sorry,” He mumbled.
“Whatever, now come on. I swear, some days I think I should have listened to me mum, Cethin,” She said with an edge of attitude.
Cethin rolled his eyes and gave a little sigh. He walked up the somewhat spooky path to his house. The residence was a dark purple color with black pebble looking tiles covering the roof. An old squeaky porch let out a moan as Cethin stepped on the first dark plank. He kicked it harder and mumbled “Shut up.”
As he entered the door way, he saw his three year old daughter playing with a rag doll. He ruffled up her black hair as he passed and she gave his leg a little hug. Her name was Esmerelda or Ezzy for short. She was about the only thing keeping him at this dump. She looked like her mother; dark hair and pale skin, but she had his dark green eyes.
"Has she been any trouble?” Cethin asked, trying to keep a steady conversation going.
“Yes,” Mara said grumpily. “Been having a little attitude all day long, now haven’t we?” She directed the end of this towards Ezzy, who sighed a little.
“See, exactly what I mean,” Mara snapped. “She’s gonna grow up and be just like the scum I married.”
“Don’t talk about her like she’s not here,” Cethin growled.
“Fine!” Mara snapped. “Stand up for her, then.” Esmerelda stood up and slumped behind the wall.
“Accio soup!” He raised his bowl just in time to catch the thick stew flying through the air.
Mara was busy cleaning dishes for most of dinner, but every now and then threw an insult at Cethin or shooed Ezzy to some other part of the house. “You know, with a bum like you as a father it’s a miracle she isn’t any more of a pain in my- ESMERELDA, YOUR SUPPOSE TO BE IN BED!!!”
Anyways, I was saying that we would be better of without you. If you really loved your daughter you may as well leave!”
Cethin dropped his spoon in his empty soup bowl and started up the old staircase, not in any particular hurry. Mara had finally got to him. He had to leave.
Cethin had been waiting for Ezzy's tenth birthday, but if he didn’t give it to her now, he knew she would never get it. He grabbed the ten and a half inch willow wand with a Raven feather core and creaked open Ezzy’s room. It was a dark, dreary space with a tiny window in the corner. Under that window was an old bed with a dark purple quilt laid over a broken, moth-eaten twin mattress.
“Ezzy?” Cethin asked. “Are you awake?”
“Daddy!” She squealed.
“Now, we have to be quiet,” he lowered his voice to whisper as an example. A better idea slipped into his mind. “Muffliato!” He muttered to the door.
“Oooh! What’s that?” Ezzy asked, pointing at his wand.
Instead of answering, he sat at the end of her bed and began, “You’re a very special little girl, Ezzy. Did you know that?”
“What do you mean?” She asked, tilting her little head.
“When I was little, I went to a school for special kids, like you. You would’ve loved it; there were talking animals and candy shops. But the best part was what you learned there," he waited a few seconds to add a dramatic effect, "Magic.”
“Magic?” She asked, her dark green eyes looking curious.
“Yes! Magic!” He exclaimed happily.
“Is Mummy special, too?” Esmerelda asked.
“Yes, but she is not proud of it,” Cethin replied a little reluctantly.
“Anyways, us special people are called witches and wizards. I’m a wizard, and you’re a witch. And since we’re special, we get special magic things, like wands.
“Can you keep a secret from Mummy?” She nodded her head yes, so Cethin continued. “Then I have a very big present for you.”
“A present?” She asked happily. “Is it another dolly?” She was obviously very excited.
“No, this is better than a doll,” he handed Ezzy the willow wand. Her eyes got very large, and if possible, Cethin could have sworn they got greener.
“What can I do with it?” She asked, looking positively thrilled.
“Oh, loads of stuff,” he said with a careless little wave of his hand. “But for now I can only show you one thing.”
He watched as Ezzy put her hand on the wand. He carefully placed his large hand over her little one. “Can you say Lumos for me?”
Her grip tightened over the wand and she said with a kind of determination, “Lumos.”
The wand lit. She stared at it in awe. “Nox,” Cethin whispered, but he doubted Esmerelda could hear him.
“Now listen, you can’t tell Mummy you have this, okay?” He told her, speaking through the sudden darkness.
“Okay,” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Now Daddy has to go away for a while,” Cethin said in a low voice.
“Why?” She asked in a troubled voice.
“Just for a little while,” he lied to her.
“Okay,” She was still talking in a whisper.
“Daddy loves you,” He mumbled and kissed her forehead. “Be strong.”
“I will,” She looked at him. But the place where her father had been was vacant, and she knew that he was gone.