meme. accepting.
Although she’s done a superb job of hiding it, Nymphadora
cannot help but notice that her mother has been crying for the last few
hours. Not weeping, mind you. Not blubbering, and certainly not
sobbing, but her mother’s cheeks haven’t been dry since noon. Hard
to tell why, really. Dora can’t remember anything significant happening
that morning ; she can’t seem to bring anything momentous to mind.
The only unusual event had been the news of some sort of killing on the
radio. They had mentioned Sirius’ name. Something more about
Azkaban. Muggles. A man called Peter Pettigrew. The Dark Lord… All of
it is rather far above Dora’s young head.
On the subject of Sirius, Dora secretly wonders about when he’ll come
again for tea. She likes him. He always makes her laugh… But, even
though she’s only eight, she can understand that asking after him right
now is not the best idea. Her father had apparated home, had spoken to
her mother, and then gone back to work. Maybe that is why her mother
won’t stop crying. Because she misses father. That makes sense.
Whatever the case, it simply won’t do for her mother to continue being
sad. Dora won’t hear of it. So, slipping up beside her in the kitchen,
she reaches up and grabs her mother’s larger fingers with her own tinier
ones and gives her mother’s hand a little squeeze.
❝ It’s alright, Mum. Everything’s alright. ❞
That should fix it, right ?
