#puthers

what ----- she turned around to heed at hari speaking like what could've just very well been one of her delirium - induced apparitions , her brows knitted together . " shouldn't you GO DIE AGAIN ? alternatively , how many times should i kill you until you develop a some new DEFORMITY ? "

       “   no !   “         the redhead shrieked at what seemed to be the flourishing branch of a cherry blossom tree .        “   you have to    give it back ,    it isn’t yours -----      it isn’t mine !    “           she huffed ,   puffed ,    and yet her interlocutor wasn’t budging .         “   and for the thousandth time ,    no you may not have my name -  nor my bones !!    “          faes were such ...      fickle creatures .       bonnie liked them ,   except when they took things that weren’t meant for them ,   which was rather often .          their small chittering went quiet ,    the pendant fell to the ground with a soft    huf    against the grass ,    and bonnie knew ,   she just   knew .          turning around ,     the redhead was already smiling when she met the eyes of the boy looking at her .    pretty .    unknown .      her hands clasped behind her back ,   fingers fidgeting nervously .          “    ----- did you know that plants can actually ,   in fact ,   hear everything we say ?    they’re great ,   very great listeners ,   honestly ,    and --    i am bonnie ,    “     the lass had strided forward as to redirect the boy away from the cherry blossom .     a pale hand extended forward confidently ,   though her eyes kept switching back to the peripherpy where now the tree seemed to mock her .

he is a particularly kind boy, from that well meaning look on his face to his eyes themselves. he has kind eyes.  she's sure he's tired of being told so, she imagines it must be weary the burden of admiration. and somehow his kindness extends to her which is somehow so much worse than if it didn't. she is the mother of his demons after all, what had come from her had taken from him. "you shouldn't..." merope pauses, she knows what he should do, he should hate her, should lock her away in azakaban and throw away the key, shout and rage. the way that muggles did with the mothers and relatives of serial killers. she has spent enough time watching the muggle news to know of such things, watched as those women shunted themselves away into other lives and tried to become invisible and sometimes wishes that she could do the same though she is not quite that selfish. she has already ran from enough, this reputation she must face. yes, merope knows what harry potter should do, but she is not entirely sure what he shouldn't do.

"you shouldn't think of me." she manages, with a sort of half smile. "you've got enough on your mind as it is. i did.. as they say make my bed.. and now i must lie in it and let the world look at me as they may." of course it isn't that simple, she'd thought that tom would have a better life without her, thought that his hogwarts life would be less burdened if he could walk through the doors without the impoverished gaunt criminal reputation following him from the great hall to the dungeons. yet time had shown her differently, though of course she had cheated somewhat by turning it herself. @puthers