Remember me
Daisy Evans stood at the window, watching the leaves fall gently from the trees outside. Autumn had always been a season of change for her, but this year felt particularly heavy. The turmoil in her family had reached a boiling point, and her heart ached for her granddaughter, Petunia, who had been lost in the shadows of neglect.
Years had passed since Petunia had come into their lives, a fragile child with an innocent smile. But as Daisy observed from the sidelines, she noticed how her son Harold and his wife Rose had favored their youngest daughter, Lily, leaving Petunia feeling invisible. And now, an unsettling revelation had shattered the fragile fabric of their family: Petunia wasn’t even Harold and Rose's biological child.
“Petunia, you are hiding something,” Daisy murmured to herself, still troubled by the cryptic words her granddaughter had spoken late last night. “And who exactly is Raven?” The name hung ominously in her mind.
Determined to uncover the truth, Daisy drove to Cokworth, where Harold worked in a factory. With every passing second, her pulse quickened, leading her to a confrontation she knew was long overdue. As she entered the factory, the clang of machinery echoed, but all she heard was the thud of her heart in her chest.
Harold stepped out of his office, surprise etched across his features. “Mum, what are you doing here?” he asked, taking a step back as if her mere presence frightened him.
“Harold, we need to talk about Petunia,” Daisy said, her voice steady but laced with emotion.
His demeanor shifted, almost defensively. “Is it true that Petunia isn’t your biological daughter?”
Harold’s gaze dropped. “Yes, Mum, it’s true.”
Daisy felt a wave of emotions crash over her. “Is this why you’ve always been distant to her? Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you keep this from me?”
He snapped back, bitterness seeping through his words. “What was I supposed to say? That Rose was raped while I watched? That I was forced to witness something so horrific?”
Daisy gasped, her heart wrenching for her son. “Harold, I had no idea.”
The air between them thickened with silence until she finally spoke again, determination fueling her words. “Harold, I think you already know that Petunia wants to live with me from now on.”
He nodded slowly. “I’m aware she was straightforward about it, Mum.” His tone turned resentful. “Do you know what she said the last time I saw her? She threatened us. that she’d reveal everything to Lily if we didn’t relinquish our parental rights to you. Petunia has transformed. It feels as if she despises us, as if she wishes to completely sever ties with us.”
Daisy frowned. “Did you expect anything less?” Disappointment bled into her tone. “If you never wanted her, why didn’t you just give her away to a loving couple? Instead of letting her suffer?”
“I thought I was doing what was best for her,” Harold replied, sorrow clouding his eyes, “but I should’ve done better. Maybe abandoning her at the hospital would have been kinder.”
“Harold, Petunia is just a child! She deserves love and care,” Daisy insisted, her voice rising. “You never gave her that.”
“It was easier to ignore it—to pretend everything was fine,” he sighed, looking skyward. “But I was wrong. And now she’s toying with us, threatening us, looking down on us. I don’t know what to do, Mum.”
Daisy paused, empathy giving way to resolve. “I believe it’s best for Petunia to live with me. Maybe she just needs time away from you and Rose.”
“No Please, Mum, convince her to stay with us. She listens to you,” Harold pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.
“No, Harold, you’ve hurt her enough already,” Daisy replied firmly. She stood, the weight of their conversation settling like lead in her stomach. As she turned to leave, one final question formed in her mind. “Do you know anyone named Raven?”
Harold shook his head, confusion evident in his eyes. “No, I don’t know anyone by that name.”
With a heavy heart, Daisy returned home, her mind circling back to the mysteries surrounding Petunia. Meanwhile, back at Harold and Rose's house, a dark atmosphere brewed in the kitchen. Petunia was there, a wicked smile plastered on her face, while Rose trembled in fear.
The air in the small Evans household crackled with tension as Harold tried to make sense of the scene unfolding before him. His wife, Rose, was sitting at the kitchen table, her face pale and trembling. Across from her sat Petunia, her daughter, an unsettling smile dancing on her lips, as if she relished the chaos she had unleashed.
“Rose, are you alright?” Harold’s voice was barely more than a whisper. Rose didn’t respond; her gaze was fixed on Petunia, or more accurately, on the ominous piece of paper lying between them.
“Harold,” Petunia said, her voice smooth yet dripping with malice, “we’ve been waiting for you.” He stepped further into the kitchen, glancing back and forth between the two women who represented such different parts of his life.
“Petunia, you’re back. What’s going on here?” Harold’s concern knitted his brows together. His heart sank as he noticed the adoption papers lying on the kitchen table, a sinister testament to his daughter's intentions. A dread settled over him like a heavy fog.
“Please, Petunia,” he pleaded, stepping closer, “You don’t have to do this.”
With an almost mocking air, she took a sip from her vanilla latte. “Oh, but I do,” Petunia countered, casually sipping her vanilla latte. “I mean, look at the masterpiece I’ve crafted.”Her nonchalance only sharpened Harold’s fear and anger.
Petunia’s voice hardened. “Sign it.”
He hesitated, trembling as the weight of her command hung in the air. “Petunia…” Each word felt like a fragile thread, “What happened to you?”
Her eyes glazed over momentarily, memories flooding back, twisted images of a future where they discarded her in favor of her ‘favored’ sister, Lily. “Oh, it's nothing, Daddy. Just a peek into the future,” she said, her voice heavy with years of hurt. “You and Mom ruined my life for so long. Even after you were six feet under, you still had a hand in my struggles, but things are different now. I’m back and I'm taking charge. You have no power here.”
Harold’s heart raced. “What are you talking about?”
She leaned in with a playful grin, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper, “So, Mr. Evans, sign the papers, or I’ll make sure Lily and everyone in this cursed town knows that there isn’t a drop of blood connecting us.”
“Are you threatening us, Petunia?” Rose’s voice broke through the haze of fear.
“It’s not a threat, Rose. It’s a promise.” Petunia’s eyes sparkled with a feral energy that sent chills down Harold’s spine.
Harold felt a rush of despair as the realization hit him. He was cornered. With trembling fingers, he picked up the pen and signed the paper, every stroke felt like a betrayal. Rose, looking defeated yet resolute, followed suit.
Once the documents lay signed, Petunia snatched them away, satisfaction etching her features. “Thank you, Dad. This is just the beginning.”
“Petunia,” Harold called out one last time. She paused, arching an eyebrow. “Who is Raven?”
The name hung in the air, pulling Petunia’s lips into a genuine smile that sent a pang of dread through Harold’s heart. “He’s my husband.”
With that, the door swung shut behind her, leaving Harold and Rose reeling in silence. “What?” Harold’s voice came out as a strangled gasp. Rose’s face reflected shock and confusion as she grasped at understanding.
“Petunia, please wait!” Rose dashed out the door, her voice fading into the bitter winter air as Harold remained rooted to the spot. He felt a riptide of conflicting emotions as he watched her slip on the snow, a single gasp escaping her lips as she fell awkwardly to the ground.
“Rose!” he shouted, realizing he had to follow her. But Rose was already pursuing their daughter, and as he stumbled after them, he saw Petunia’s figure disappearing.
Meanwhile, Rose limped painfully towards the trail, sharp pangs radiating through her leg, but she pressed on, her heart full of desperation. She pushed into the depths of the woods, an instinct beckoning her forward. but Harold stopped her and took her back to their home, trying to wrap their heads of what just happened.
For the first time Harold felt helpless, a mix of fear and regret. His hands shook as he stared at the spot where Petunia had just been standing. “What have we done?” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
Rose sat numbly at the table, her eyes wide and glassy. “I never thought…” she started but faltered. “How could we have let it get this far? She is just a child and… and all of this happened.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands.
“I thought… I thought time would heal her,” Harold replied, trying to hold back his own emotions. “But instead, it made her bitter. I thought we were doing right by her.”
“Doing what was right?” Rose shouted suddenly, shocking Harold from his stupor. “You call this right? Ignoring her, rejecting her? All because of a mistake that wasn’t even her fault? Harold, we should have fought for her. We should have loved her.”
He could feel the weight of her words bearing down on him like a heavy shroud. “I didn’t know she would turn into this person,” he said, his voice cracking under the pressure of his guilt.
“Well, look at her now!” Rose cried out. “She’s threatening us! She’s transformed into someone we don’t even recognize! And we allowed her to become this way!”
Harold slammed his palms against the table, sending a few cups rattling. The clatter broke through the tension, if only for a moment. “What can we do? She’s empowered now, Rose. We’re the ones who pushed her to this point.”
Rose wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her expression a mix of fear and determination. “We go back to Daisy. We ask her for help. She’s the only one who has any influence over Petunia now. She needs to understand that —”
“Rose,” Harold interrupted, “mom may not want anything to do with us anymore, and honestly, can you blame her? We’ve done nothing but harm that girl.”
Just then, the door swung open, and Lily bounced into the room, her bright energy contrasting sharply with the heaviness saturating the atmosphere. “Hey, guys! What’s—” her voice trailed off as she took in the scene—the upset expressions, the tension hanging in the air. “What happened?”
“Nothing… nothing at all,” Harold said too quickly, trying to smooth over the sharp edges.
Lily tilted her head, unconvinced. “You guys seriously look like you’ve seen a ghost. Petunia was here, wasn’t she?”
At the mention of Petunia's name, dread filled the pit of Harold’s stomach. “She… she just left,” he said, forcing the words out. “It’s… it’s been a difficult moment.”
Lily’s brow furrowed in confusion, and a glint of concern lit up her eyes. “Did she say anything? She’s been acting weird lately.”
Which was an understatement, Harold thought grimly. “She just wants things to change,” he answered vaguely. “But you don’t need to worry about that, sweetheart.” Lilly, the naïve child that she is just nodes her head. praying that Petunia would come back home and everything would go back to the way it was before.
Within Daisy’s cabin near the woods, a different story was unfolding. There, Petunia finally found a clearing that reminded her of happier times. She took out her black violin, her most precious possession, and began to play, pouring out her soul into the notes, longing for the man she loved.
“Remember me, remember me
I'm on my own, remember me
I'm too far gone, I couldn't see
Remember me, remember me
All the times I cut so deep
All my life I couldn't breathe
Remember me, remember me
Remember me, remember me
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh” she played her violin to the wind, her heart breaking with each note as tears streamed down her face. In that melancholic melody lived all her lost dreams, repressed memories, and unspoken truths.
Unbeknownst to Petunia, a young boy in the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts heard her song. Twelve-year-old Rabastan Lestrange pondered her name as he listened. “ Petals?” he murmured, a smile lighting his face.
With a flick of his wand, he summoned petals from the ground, sending them swirling to the source of the song. “She remembers me,” he mused, the air around him sparkling with magic as he watched the petals take flight.
Petunia continued to play, oblivious, until the petals danced into her surroundings, encircling her like a protective cocoon. In a moment of enchantment, they transformed into a figure, radiant and familiar. The boy appeared before her, a vision of the man she cherished.
Her grandmother, Daisy, watched in awe, hidden behind a tree, unaware of her granddaughter’s sorrows.
“Petunia,” he whispered, and their foreheads touched tenderly. “I’ve waited for you.” Petunia felt , a warmth enveloped her."I love you, my Raven," she murmured, pressing her lips to the figure's, feeling the magic wrap around them.
But the moment shattered when Daisy, startled by the beauty and magic, stepped on a branch. The hallucination faded away, and Petunia stood bewildered, staring into the space where he once was.
“Grandma?” she called out hesitantly, her heart pounding. The figure of her beloved Raven vanished, leaving only the echoes of their connection behind.
“Petunia!” Daisy called out, rushing toward her granddaughter and hugged her, but Petunia didn’t hear her—a lighthouse in a storm of sorrow. All she could think about was her Raven and the future they had dreamed together, lost yet pulsing with possibility amidst the shadows of her past.