The fanfic saga continues.... This one is a little more than a mere fanfic.
“What is it that you are putting up on the walls,?” his mother asked.
Posters, Mom,” he replied in a lazy voice. ...
"Yes, but who are those women? And what are they wearing?"
“Oh, that one is Brigitte Bardot and the one next to her is Sophia Loren. Don’t they look lovely in those bikinis?," he grinned.
He sure knew of a way to irritate his mother. After all, didn’t she irritate him enough – with all that talk of pure blood and pure races and old family tradition.
“They don’t look like our people,” his mother said. She could already sense a battle brewing.
“Our people are ugly. Why would I want to put up their pictures,” he replied in a drawl. He was beginning to enjoy this.
His mother tried not to respond, and turned her attention to another picture her first born had pasted on his wall. An odd-looking machine with two wheels. “And what does that do?,” she asked, in an attempt at reconciliation.
“Oh that’s a mobike,” the boy said. “It is what people use to travel from one place to another.”
“Why would you need that, when you can simply disapparate?,” the mother asked, trying to keep her voice under control.
“Because Mom, not everyone likes the feeling of being squeezed through a very thin rubber tube,” the boy replied, in a voice full of condescension.
“Is there anything about our people that you like? “ The mother asked, her voice tight.
“Nah, Nothing,” the boy replied carelessly. He knew he was hurting his mother. But he could not help himself.
His mother let out a deep sigh. She reminded herself that he was only 16. Boys that age were difficult. She simply walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.
That night he left home. Never to return.
***
Years later, long after Orion and Regulus were dead, Walburga would sit in the room of her first born and wonder:
Would everything have been different if I had told him that I did not care much for all that pure blood stuff?
But then, she thought, a woman has to uphold family traditions and abide by what is expected of her – whether she is in the Muggle world or the Magical World.
“What is it that you are putting up on the walls,?” his mother asked.
Posters, Mom,” he replied in a lazy voice. ...
"Yes, but who are those women? And what are they wearing?"
“Oh, that one is Brigitte Bardot and the one next to her is Sophia Loren. Don’t they look lovely in those bikinis?," he grinned.
He sure knew of a way to irritate his mother. After all, didn’t she irritate him enough – with all that talk of pure blood and pure races and old family tradition.
“They don’t look like our people,” his mother said. She could already sense a battle brewing.
“Our people are ugly. Why would I want to put up their pictures,” he replied in a drawl. He was beginning to enjoy this.
His mother tried not to respond, and turned her attention to another picture her first born had pasted on his wall. An odd-looking machine with two wheels. “And what does that do?,” she asked, in an attempt at reconciliation.
“Oh that’s a mobike,” the boy said. “It is what people use to travel from one place to another.”
“Why would you need that, when you can simply disapparate?,” the mother asked, trying to keep her voice under control.
“Because Mom, not everyone likes the feeling of being squeezed through a very thin rubber tube,” the boy replied, in a voice full of condescension.
“Is there anything about our people that you like? “ The mother asked, her voice tight.
“Nah, Nothing,” the boy replied carelessly. He knew he was hurting his mother. But he could not help himself.
His mother let out a deep sigh. She reminded herself that he was only 16. Boys that age were difficult. She simply walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.
That night he left home. Never to return.
***
Years later, long after Orion and Regulus were dead, Walburga would sit in the room of her first born and wonder:
Would everything have been different if I had told him that I did not care much for all that pure blood stuff?
But then, she thought, a woman has to uphold family traditions and abide by what is expected of her – whether she is in the Muggle world or the Magical World.
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