Requiem to a Goddess {Hermione Granger}

Summer 1991: Odile Yaxley

Dad sat across the table, slowly fiddling with a letter opener. I knew what he was doing, watched his eyes when they dared a glance at me, I knew he was waiting for me to say something, to show a sign that I was too eager or nervous. In the hand without the opener he had the thick parchment envelope I'd been waiting for all summer, I had seen the signature green ink spelling out my name in a peculiar yet formidable scrawl. He wanted me to ask for him to get on with it and open the letter so that he could reprimand me for being demanding, childish, or insufferable. It was a game he'd been playing often as of late, testing my patience to see if I would break and disappoint him.

I kept my posture straight, my eyes attentively pointed at anywhere but the letter. I would wait him out.

I did not have to wait for very long. After a moment he let out a huff, and with a half sigh and half approving smile he sliced through the seal of the envelope, spilling out two pieces of parchment onto the table. He lifted the larger piece, held it up above his head and read out loud in his gravelly old voice:

"Dear Odile Yaxley, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st. Yours sincerely, Minerva Mcgonagall, deputy head mistress."

He lowered the paper, turning it over and then setting it down on the dark oak table between us before picking up the other piece of parchment from the envelope. I watched, keeping my expressions even, as he read out loud a list of supplies. "We'll have to have you fitted for robes at Twilfitt and Tattings, get you a proper wand," he muttered once he was finished, taking both pieces of parchment and quickly folding them into his inner robe pocket, "tomorrow, that is. Have Benji wake you up early and be ready to leave at seven in the morning. If you aren't ready, I will leave without you, and you will have to use supplies that you did not pick out for yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yes Father," my voice was monotonous, even I could have fooled myself with it. He couldn't hear the small note of stress I felt at his declaration. I knew he would take any opportunity to abandon me behind, he'd be leaving the second the clock strikes seven.

"Good girl," he rose from his seat, "Work will not allow me to attend lunch or dinner tonight, so you will dine alone. I will allow you to take your meal to your room just this once as a celebration for the occasion. Our family had attended Hogwarts for many generations, I am sure you will live up to the expectations that your ancestors demand of you, and that I demand of you," he fixed me with a pointed stare, "take pride this evening in being a Witch and a student of witchcraft, and in being a member of an honorable pureblood family such as ours. I will leave you now."

"Yes Father, I wish you a good evening and night."

He nodded in response and swiftly left the room, me sitting alone in it. We'd been in one of two sitting rooms, the one reserved for family events that was decorated with dark hues of blue and green. The area was large but crowded, stuffed with long sofa's, loveseats, armchairs, and a series of small dark coffee tables, fit for entertaining the once large Yaxley family. Now there were only four of us, only three of which lived at home (my elder brother, Doran, had since married a moved out, though he visited during the holidays), and the room was humorously big for such a small group of people.

I breathed in, soaking up the silence and privacy of the room, counting to ten in my head before letting my breath back out. With a small burst of energy, I pumped my fist in the air, whispering a small 'yes!' to myself, the smallest celebration I could muster for my acceptance letter. For weeks prior I had been paranoid, stressing over whether or not my Hogwarts letter would come, wondering if I would turn out to be a squib and bring shame to my family, if Albus Dumbledore would somehow decide that I was simply not worthy of schooling. I let relief flood my mind, grateful that I was not missing the biggest opportunity that young witches and wizards were offered. I would go to Hogwarts.