Autumn air
October 14 1964
Father was reading the newspaper, ink staining his fingers. He was sitting with one leg over the other in his high backed leather armchair.
Mother was knitting a jumper before the crackling fire. Remus was listening to the music and petting Biscuit.
Father gave a long suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“The ministry won’t lock away the horrid monsters. No matter what i do they simply think they lack the recourses. Werewolves are soulless bastards and should be treated as such” he sighed.
“Lyall” Mothers voice was calm yet it held a warning.
“Not in-front of Remus” she didn’t look up from her knitting.
Indignanse started to form in him. He was four after all. Didn’t he deserve to hear?
Lyall resigned and went back to reading his daily prophet. He flicked his wand and the dying flames rose again. He mumbled the words “incendio”.
It was so cool Remus though. The way he could simply make it as he wished. He had just done stuff accidentally.
Mother read him to sleep. Talking about princes slaying monsters. Princesses saved by true love. Stories of friendship, of family.