I fell to my bed in tears. Burying my face into my pillow and I just cried. It was the third time that week that my father had yelled at me. I don't know why he would yell at me in the first place. Well I do, but it was stupid in the beginning. I just slammed the door when I came in, but somehow he started yelling at me because of my marks on OWLs and how I would never turn out like her mother.
I don't understand. OWLs were a year ago, and I think I did excellent, even old Dumbledore said I did outstanding. That didn’t get me upset though. It was the fact that my father brought Mother into the fight. Whenever he brought up her, I knew I would be crying myself to sleep.
If you must know, I lost my mother when I was only three; my parents only been married for four years and only were 21. The second war happened shortly after they got out of Hogwarts, but it didn’t end until four years later. A Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, took Mother’s life and my father never really gotten over it.
When I was accepted to Hogwarts, my father found reasons to be hard on me. I had inherited my father’s troublemaking and sense of adventure, but also my mother’s cleverness and brains. The five years after I stepped foot in Hogwarts, I stood silent in front of her father when he would yell at me when I would get into trouble or my marks in school weren’t great. I always thought that he expected too much from my. I hated being the daughter of a famous wizard. Everyone in the wizard world knew who I was. I was the daughter of Harry and Hermione Potter.
I inherited more than my parents’ personality. One look at me, and you knew I was their daughter. I have waist-length raven-colored hair that was curly and was mostly in a ponytail or braided. I had her mother’s honey eyes and was tall like my father. One thing that I loved was that I also had my mother’s curvy shape that she had at the age of sixteen. I play quidditch...just like my father, but as I said before, I’m also an excellent student in school. I was both of my parents in one.
Everyone expected so much from me. I hate it. I don’t understand why my father hated me so much. So, almost every night, I cry myself to sleep, thinking about how much I loved my father, but hated him at the same time.
A soft tapping sound at me window caught my attention. Looking up from my tear soaked pillow, I saw a beautiful tawny owl sitting on the window’s ledge. I smiled weakly, got up from my bed, and walked towards the window. I opened the window quietly and the owl flew in and landed on my shoulder.
“Midas. So good to see you,” I softly whispered. I gently rubbed my thumb on the tawny’s breast. The owl gave a soft hoot, dropped the letter it was holding in it’s beak into my hand, and flew to the cage on the other side of the room where it rested.
I smiled again. I love it when my owl would come back with a letter from a friend. I noticed the green writing on the roll of parchment right away. It belonged to Marcus Malfoy, the boy I loved since my first year at Hogwarts. I was about to open the letter when I heard my father outside her door. I ran to my bed, jumping on it, and shoved the letter under my pillow and crawled quickly under her bed covers. I rested my head on the wet pillow and closed my eyes just as my father opened the door. I felt the hallway light on my face and could hear Midas hooting softly. I could hear my father approach my bedside, and felt him sit down beside me. His hand touched my cheek, the same cheek he had hit earlier.
“Dani?” her father whispered softly. “Sweetie, if you’re awake, please open your eyes. Please Sweetheart.”
I could hear my father’s voice break but I refused to open my eyes. He gently brushed a stray curl away from my face and got up to leave my room. After I heard the door click shut, I started to cry, silent tears.
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