1) Funeral

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Andrea Quill twirls her wand between her fingers. She gave up her freedom for that wand, agreeing to protect a child with no one world in the world, all in order to get her weapon back. It had been snapped after being expelled from Hogwarts. Quill had spent months trying to get her wand repaired post Hogwarts.

Eventually she met an Auror, a man named James Smith who agreed to help Quill out on special measures to get a new wand. But it had come at a price - if Quill wanted to get her wand back, she'd have to become the legal guardian of their only child in case anything happened to them. Quill had agreed of course, believing it was highly unlikely she'd actually have to look after him.

Anise and James Smith were excellent Aurors, some of the most powerful people Quill had ever met, but that also made them targets of dark magic. The couple had been attacked and brutally murdered on their way home to their manor in Sheffield.

Expect not all of the Smiths had been killed during the attack. The son of the two Aurors had survived. And now he was under Quill's protection. Magic had bonded her to him, meaning Quill had no choice but to protect him. An unbreakable vow she had made to James meant if his son died, so would she.

Charles looked delicate, like he was made of glass. He was young, far too young to have gone though such a tragedy. Charlie was only eight. But he seemed older, in the month since the attack, all he had done was read, as of crying over library books would change a thing.

Death made you grow up. Made you aware of the world around you. It changed you.

Charles held on to his Mothers wand and cried without noise. It was slightly concerning. He didn't seem angry. He didn't seem to have a burning rage which made him want to get revenge on the sociopath witch who had killed his parents in front of him.

Quill had wanted justice. All she had was her Mother growing up and then she was torn from her. The rage had burned inside of her for years. It still did.

Charles would make a terrible solider. He let his grieve consume him instead of letting it empower him. He didn't want to fight. He wanted to read and let other thoughts take over his head.

Quill would have to train him up. She was his guardian now even though she was only eighteen years old.

Part of her - the strong independent part - resented him for it. She had wants a wand to embrace her independence and now she was trapped babysitting him.

Charles was an orphan - just she was. And a much larger part of Quill pitied the young boy. At least she hadn't seen her parents die.

Quill didn't do hugs, certainly not with Charles. But she would leave a hot drink outside his bedroom tonight. It might help calm any nightmares she thought he had. Maybe Charles would even thank her. He was overly polite after all. Like a little prince.

Quill was going protect him. That's what she agreed to do. All she agreed to do. 'Keep my son alive. Keep him safe.'

Soldiers always kept their promises. And even though her dreams of being an Auror were gone, she was going to honour James Smith. Quill was still a soldier. She just wasn't fighting for the causes she wanted to fight for anymore. She was fighting for James now.

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