For the Last Time

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| xxx | The rules had been very simple. As soon as Lottie was released, she would return to Cambridge for a single night to collect a few necessities as well as to update her mother and father on her progress. She would run them through every location she would be going to while staying with her brother, and was to assure them that she would not leave the city nor make any contact with her sister or classmates during the visit. This had all been described to Lottie in the returning letter from her mother, Delphine. She had made sure to send it early, just n case her mother decided to be indecisive, or change her mind last minute. The letter had been cold and crisp, sent five days after Lottie's and with much less words. Lottie wasn't sure why she had felt such an intense ripple of anxiety upon receiving the letter, but nonetheless it sat like a weight in her bag all the way from Hogwarts station to Cambridge. Much heavier, though, was the weight of her train ticket to Bristol. When she arrived at the estate in Cambridge, it looked exactly as she remembered, if a bit more barren. The great circular driveway swooped around a patch of snow, covering the nicely-manicured lawn. In the center, a statue of a crow stared wistfully out in the distance, her great-grandfather's patronus. Her cheeks burned with cold as she made her way to the front door and knocked three times. She had thought, perhaps a long time ago, that she would be back with her younger brother and sister. Ethel, however, was far too behind in her classes to take the break, and insisted that she would use the time to catch back up despite all her friends staying back with her. Francis hadn't said much at all, and by the time Lottie was preparing to leave, it seemed out of the question that he would come. So she ventured back to Cambridge alone, with only her suitcase and a few galleons. After what felt like an eternity, the door slowly creaked open. To her surprise, Lottie came face-to-face with her father. Fabian Winfield was not the kind to answer doors. He didn't often show his face, especially not around his children. He looked different to Lottie every time she saw him, sometimes with a new scar along his face or a change in hair. Now, though, he looked worse than ever. He was typically an orderly man, but today there were dark bags under his eyes, scruff trailing along his jaw, and his hair was an uncut mess. "Charlotte," he said lowly, because here in Cambridge, Lottie was Charlotte. "Your mother said you would be visiting." Lottie didn't know if she should be offended that her father hadn't had a say in her visit, or if she should be pleased that he would take the time out to greet her. Fabian was not an easy man to read, mostly because there was rarely enough of him to read. He opened the door further, just a crack. "You should have told us you had arrived. We would have sent you a car." Instinctively, Lottie brought a hand up to her hair. A mess, she was sure of it, though she was less sure as to why her father had any room to be judgmental of her slight disarray when he looked as though he hadn't left in his office in a decade. She waved the thought away with a rough shake of her head. Fabian stepped further into the house, and Lottie followed. She wasn't sure where he was walking to, but he held himself with an air of beckoning as he turned this way and that, eventually bringing the girl to the lounge. On the coffee table was a small brown box. "We missed your birthday," Fabian explained, folding his hands in front of him before awkwardly moving them back behind him. He seemed so different. Perhaps Lottie just no longer believed that the world started and ended with her parents' expectations. "It's a gift." Hesitantly, Lottie took the package off the table and unwrapped it. Inside was a necklace with a dainty lily charm. Lottie ran her fingers over the smooth metal. It was not personal, by any means, but it was a gift from her parents, and that was more than a million galleons to the girl. Her father cleared his throat. "There's more." Lottie glanced back down at the box, suddenly struck with a gnawing curiosity. Her fingers curled around the wrapping paper below, catching on a strange, heavy object. She pushed away all the tissue until it revealed itself. A book. The cover was of a soldier, angular and bold, a spear clenched in one hand and a shield in the other. He wore a helmet of gold, a mohawk of fur lining the center and trailing to the crook of his neck. Below his violent frame, two words were outlined in shimmering silver: The Iliad. Lottie blinked. She thought she must be imagining it, but when she looked up at her father, he bore an expression of calm understanding. But there was something more. Something regretful, restrained, secretive in a way that Lottie knew she could not yet understand. But she would. This fact she was sure of. "How did-" "Your mother does not know." He held up a hand, less reassuring and more silencing. Lottie nodded, once, then looked back down at the book. She already had a million copies, hidden under her bed, tucked into her trunk, stuffed between the shelves in the library. But this one was from her father. Her strange, unknown, secret of a father. There were many things Lottie did not know, and many things she would soon come to know. But here, under the glow of a blossoming winter, Lottie at least knew that she was seen. | xxx |
![]() | ✒ ──────────────────────────── •
A Muggle for a Match | ![]() |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |


