I was younger, but not much. Thirteen. Thirteen years old. We were in my old house, but only for a few days. We couldn't risk staying for more than that. We would be easily tracked if we did. My father was in his room, working on an new spell he had been trying to perfect for a while. I was in the front room, playing the old, dusty piano that had always sat there.
"Oh, -" My fingers came to a stop for the umpteenth time that day as my fahter uttere da loud word who's meaning was unknown to me. I had heard him use it multiple times; usually when hew as mad. I had never used it, atleast not infront of him, becaues, for some reason, I had a feeling I shouldn't be saying it. I sighed and started playing again. This was how it always went.
"Eleanor!" I stopped again. He came stomping through the house. I knew what this was going to lead to. I braced myself. "Will you stop pounding around on that stupid thing?! I don't know how you even picked up such a useless skill!" He slammed his hand on the bass end of the piano, causing a harsh crash of notes. "That's all it is! Useless! Why can't you make yourself useful and focus on magic?!"
"I don't ahve a wand, father..."
There is was. the sharp slap I always got anyitme he was displeased with me. But this one was harder than usual; so hard, in fact, that i fell off hte piano bench and onto my back on the floor.
"Don't smart off! I didn't smart off to my father, and you won't smart off to me!" He loomed over me.
"I wasn't!" I squeaked. He pulled his wand out of his robes and I flinched. I waited, expecting the worse, but... nothing came. I opened my eyes. He had it aimed at the piano.
"Confingo!" He yelled.
BOOM! It hit it directly, causing splinters of wood and ivory keys to fly aorund the room. I sat up, crying. That piano was the only thaing that gave me hope; a ray of sunlight in a world of darkness. But now..."
"Stop that crying!" He slapped me again. "Now leave me alone! And be quiet! I have important things to do!" He turned around and went back into his room, oddly not bothering to slam the door behind him. I stood up and wiped my eyes.
He had blown up my piano. That was the only thing I loved and now... I hated my fahter! He was mean to me! Always slapping me! Calling me usless! Maybe I could run away. I didn't know where I would go, but I could figure it out later. Anywhere would be better than with him. Or maybe he could jsut die. Yeah, that's it. He could just die. That's what I wanted; him to be dead.
Suddenly, a firece head erupted from my father's room. A blazing glow flowed from the doorway. I heard my fahter scream, and then, all at once, everything stopped. There was a moment of silence and then my father spoke, very weakly.
I whimpered out of fear and very slowly wlaked into his room. The once while walls were charred black. In the middle of the room layed my father's body in simular condition. A trail of black ash connected them. He lifted his hand as much as he could manage.
"Closer..." I tiptoed to him and crouched down, tears flooding my eyes. His locked with mine. "Hold still." He instructed. I nodded and he lifted his wand, pointing it towards me. "A-" He started, then suddenly went limp. I leaned over him.
"Father?! Father?!" I cried out, be he didn't answer. I had gotten my wish. He was dead. But now I wished that I could take it back."
My eyes quickly flew open. I was back in the girl's dormitory. I rubbed my eyes. It had been a while since I had a nightmare. No, a flashback. A nightmare is a figment of your imagination, and that had really happened. Stretching, I rolled over and yawned, then suddenly came to a stop at what I saw: Uncle Severus was standing beside my bed, his arms crossed in annoyance.
"Did you have a good night's rest?" He asked. I looked around; no one else was there. That meant I had overslept.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, wondering why it was he who had come to get me.
"Vincent said you weren't in class. He was worried. I told him you probably just irresponsibly slept in. Sure enough, I was correct. Everyone is already in their first class. Now, what is the meaning of this?" He lowered his voice. "Were you training with your father?"