Most mothers worried about the cold when Winter came knocking on front doors. They worried about beanies, and mittens, scarves, and big fluffy jackets. They wondered how many pairs of socks they should force their child to wear, and if long underwear was a good investment. Do you buy rain boots for when it snows? Or just let them wear the shoes that blink when they jump, purely because it makes them smile nearly as much as the snow? What about ear muffs, do they still wear ear muffs? Winter also meant Christmas, which meant trying to figure out what to buy.
Violetta wished these were her only concerns. Now she also had to think, ‘what if I put too many clothes on her, and she can’t run away quick enough?’ Or, ‘What if I buy clothes that make her stand out too much and someone bad sees her as a target?’. Her mind was still deep into the war. The Wizarding War was just over two years gone, but she still felt watched, she still felt the need to look over her shoulder, she still felt targetted. She worried for Avery’s safety as well. Around any corner, there could be a Death Eater waiting to attack.
This morning, however, she was feeling rather good. Avery was cheerful, it was her favorite season, and they were going to take a trip to her father’s, per Avery’s request to see her “Grampapa”. Violetta had dressed the little four year old in jeans, a thick purple parka, and snow boots, tucked a hat over her head and had told her to grab her teddy bear from her room if she wanted to bring it with her.
Knowing her daughter, she’d spend some time up there picking out other things she needed to bring with her. Avery always decided that she would need nearly every toy she owned for a few hours, or a night’s stay at her grandfather’s. The twenty three year old witch stood in her kitchen, a melancholy feeling rolling over her. Nothing was how it was when he was still here. She’d changed the color, changed the drapery, even the counter tops. But, it still felt like him. Part of her wished to move. Every year she told herself ‘this is the year we move’, but she never did. She blamed it on not wanting to move until she could live back at her house in the meadows, by the woods, but in truth, she was clinging to the past, clinging to him.
Her ears tuned in to the ticking of the clock above the doorway to the living room. That wretched sound could drive her up a wall. Tick, tock, tick, tock. She thrust her fingers through her hair before grabbing her bag and making her way to the front door. Once there, she’d realized that it’d probably be best if grabbed a snack for the ride, knowing Avery disliked getting hungry in any way shape or form. She returned to the kitchen and took a few rice cakes from the pantry. As she turned to walk back to the front door, she thought a figure caught her eye, but she shook it off. Paranoia, she decided. ‘If I check, I’ll only feed the paranoia.’ She thought.
"Avery! If you want to go, come on!" She called up the stairs as she pulled on her cloak. Part of her wished she could apparate, but apparating with a child wasn’t recommended, and Avery hated it. After Peter left, Violetta had invested in a muggle flying car, and learned how to drive it rather well. Of course, it flew, but Avery had some obsession with it staying on the road. Violetta opened the front door and tapped her foot impatiently. Suddenly, the small dirty blonde hair child runs past Violetta- in a bright red polka dotted summer dress.
"Avery Anastasia Emmeline Hobday! Get back in here!" Violetta shouted as the girl let out loud giggles. Avery stopped in her tracks, staring at the end of the drive way, and cocked her head. The frustrated mother started to step forward,
"Mama, who … id dat?" She asked pointing out towards the end of the drive way. Violetta went to grab Avery’s shoulder, but she slipped out of her grasp, giggling wildly once more.
"Avery Hob-" She stopped when it registered that someone was there. Nearly immediately, Violetta felt panic. The auror pulled Avery behind her as she took her wand from her pocket, hand smoothing over the carved, wood. Her grip tightened on the handle when she felt Avery’s finger’s clutching at her pants.
"Mama…" She murmured, looking up. Violetta put a hand down to rest on the back of her daughter’s head. A familiar feeling rushed through her veins, causing her skin to tingle,
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