The semester was finally over and Olivia was home again. The house hadn't changed much since she'd last been there. Her room was certainly a lot dustier and many of the free spaces around the house were taken up by her father's almost finished reports. So Olivia spent the first few days of the summer holidays cleaning her room and the rest of the house while she thought about the conversation she knew was coming.

She had been thinking about it ever since that day in the rehearsal room when Tes had interrupted her and Colin and then told her about a guy she'd met at the ball. A guy whose name Olivia had forgotten until then. Salim Wolde. Hearing that name brought back a lot of memories and now she needed to talk to her dad about it.

But that was easier said than done because her dad was very rarely home and when he was home he was always working on some report. Olivia wondered how everything could have gone so wrong between her and him. They had been a tight-knit and happy family! That is, until Olivia's mom died. He had never really been himself after that.

After a little more than a week, Olivia had had enough. She had thought the situation over too many times already and knew that if she didn't do it now, she never would. But she needed to do it the right way. She waited until about four in the afternoon. Marc had come home early to finish writing some reports. Olivia knew he hated being disturbed, but she had a plan.

The plan really only had three steps. 1) Make Marc's favorite tea. 2) Give the tea to Marc to warm him up. 3) Confront him and get him to tell the truth.

Olivia had to search for quite a while to find the chamomile tea, which turned out to be at the very top and farthest back of the pantry. Then she boiled water and poured it all into a cup. Finally Olivia guided the steps towards the dining room where her father was sitting surrounded by papers. Now was the time.

When Olivia entered the dining room, her father was indeed sitting there writing a report. He looked very tired and had ink stains on his hands.

“Hello father,” she said gently in as warm a voice as she could manage.

“What is it, daughter? I have a report to write,” he said without looking up from his parchment where Olivia could barely make out a heading containing the words “illegal smuggling”.

Olivia took a breath, she knew he would answer like that but she wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“I’ve made you tea,” she said and set the cup down next to him. “Blackcurrant, your favorite.”

Only then did Marc look up from his parchment. He looked from Olivia to the cup and back to Olivia. A tired and very small smile spread across his face. “Thank you Olivia, that was very kind of you,” he said in a much warmer tone than before.

“It was so little,” Olivia replied and smiled back. Her plan was working so far. She sat down on the chair opposite Marc. “I thought maybe we could talk for a bit?” Olivia suggested cautiously. It was important that she didn’t go too fast, or her father would probably just tell her to go.

Marc seemed to think about her suggestion. Finally he nodded. “Sure,” he replied warmly. “But just for a little while, I have to finish this report by tomorrow.” He put down his quill and took a sip of his tea. “So, tell me, how has this year been?”

Olivia was relieved that her plan had worked, but she was also a little irritated. Well, now he wants to talk, not all the times she’d sent him letters. “Well, it’s been going well,” Olivia replied, trying to keep her voice calm and warm.

“How nice,” Marc replied. “How are your grades?”

“Well, I have Outstanding in average.”

“That’s great, then maybe you can follow in my footsteps and become a highly respected auror.”

Hell no, Olivia thought, she wasn’t going to become a fucking auror. She couldn’t tell her father that, though, so she just shrugged and blurted out, “Maybe.”

The conversation moved from grades to lessons, from lessons to teachers, from teachers to students, and from students to Olivia’s friends.

Olivia swallowed. “Well, I know a guy called Mikey Forville, he plays keeper on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and we’ve studied together sometimes,” she said, studying her father’s expression carefully. “Besides, he knows what I am and he’s okay with it,” she added, and could practically see the words pressing into her father’s head.

He sat still for a few moments before nodding slowly. “Well, there are some who are okay with it, but you still need to be careful who you trust,” he said firmly.

Now Olivia was struggling to control her voice. “Father, everyone I’ve trusted and told about my other side has been okay with it,” she said, her voice higher now. “It’s not like back in your days. People are more open-minded now and people trust each other.”

Marc was about to answer but Olivia wasn’t going to let him, it was now or never.

“Speaking of trust,” she began, and it became even harder to control her voice. “I thought I could trust you. But apparently I can’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Marc asked in an irritated voice and shook his head.

Olivia took a breath. “Why haven’t you told me about him?”

“About who?”

“Salim.”

“Who the hell is that?”

“Salim Wolde.”

There was complete silence.

Without either Olivia or Marc noticing, they had both stood up.

“Why did you let me forget him? Why did you lie every time I asked if I had any friends in Sweden? What else have you lied about?” Olivia asked, and now her voice was no longer loud but almost a whisper, a trembling whisper.

“Olivia-,” Marc began, looking away for a moment as he ran his ink-stained hand through his hair.

“No, the truth this time.”

He sighed deeply. “When we lived in Sweden and your mother was still alive, she had a colleague named Bisa Wolde. She had a son named Salim Wolde. You two used to play together. But after your mother died—” he broke off suddenly.

“What about mother? And speaking of her death, you never told me anything about it.”

“Your mother was killed by a magical creature.”

“I know.”

“And it was my fault.”

“I… huh?”

“…We were supposed to protect a herd of Graphorns from poachers but there were too many of them. I had my back to your mother for a second. That was exactly what was needed for that beast to kill her. I turned when I heard her screams but it was too late. I apparated us out of there and she died in my arms.”

Olivia just stared at her father. He looked away and ran a hand over his face.

“That still doesn’t explain why you lied,” Olivia finally said, but her voice had stopped shaking. It was icy cold.

Marc didn’t even turn around. “After your mother died, I was devastated and everything in Sweden, absolutely everything, reminded me of her. I couldn’t stand it, so I took a job here in London and we moved. I didn’t keep in touch with Bisa because she was never more than a colleague to me and having her in my life would remind me of your mother.” A stifled sob was heard.

Olivia just stood still.

After a few seconds, Marc gathered himself and then said, “Excuse me for a moment.” After that, he quickly hurried out of the room and Olivia could hear the front door slamming shut shortly after.

She stood still for a few moments before going back up to her room.

She had a letter to write.