Chapter 1
It was a warm summer night when one Harriet Lilian Potter decided to escape to where she felt the safest, a place where no one would hurt her, a place where she could be herself, a place where she could pour her heart out.
The swings.
The young child’s heart was heavy with sadness, tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over once more. But Harry did not want to cry anymore, not again, she did not want to give them the satisfaction of seeing her tears.
She would not cry anymore, she was tired of it. And she wasn’t a baby, not like Dudley!
“St-stop it, don’t be a baby. Don’t cry…I’m a big girl now, I will not cr-cry.” Sniffed Harriet to herself, while she pushed some bothersome strands of hair away from her face.
And here she stopped, her face contorting into heartbreak.
Her hair.
Raising her hands to her hair, her once long black hair, long and pretty hair. Which was the only thing Harry ever felt happy about, because it was the only pretty thing that was hers. It was the only thing that made her feel pretty. And it was gone, in its stead she felt chopped locks of hair on her head, which reached the nape of her neck.
Aunt Petunia had cut it off.
She hiccuped then, trying to stall away the tears from flooding once more down her cheeks.
As she was sat on the swing outside, trying to gather her thoughts and find solace, Harriet hadn’t realised that it had turned dark already. This should have alarmed any other child, but Harriet felt indifferent to it.
It did not matter anyways, for only good children were cared for and taught to be afraid of the dark.
Harry was a freak, nothing more.
Well that is what she’s been told her whole life.
Even if she’d shout and say that she isn’t, that she’s a good girl…she’d be know as only a freak, nothing more. Even if she’s done a lot of good deeds, like helping her aunt Petunia around the house, well, she was forced to but she did her best in helping! And also with other chores, like cleaning around the house, gardening (she likes gardening the best of all of her chores, because she gets to go outside, like now!) or cooking.
Here she hugged her hands tighter to her person.
As the warm summer night enveloped her and the neighbourhood, the moon cast a gentle glow down towards where she was sat on the swing. Her teary, but curious vibrant green eyes gazed towards the sky in comfort.
For the night only ever brought her comfort throughout her lonely life.
Unbeknownst by the young girl, her heartbreaking cries had reached the ears of a passerby. It was the Gaul, Godric. A vampire.
He had only intended to pass this area by, but upon hearing the cries of a young child, he had suddenly stopped. He for some reason could not ignore the sounds of distress coming from the child, so with a deep sense of curiosity, and worry, he stepped closer to investigate the sounds.
His brows furrowed in confusion, he was of the understanding that human children were to be sheltered from any danger, which included not going out in the dark. But as it were, he had not heard incorrectly, for sitting on a swing, with their beaten up shoes (that were too big,) not even reaching the ground, there the crying child sat.
It was a young girl.
The child’s gaze was turned upon the starry night's sky, she did not notice the predator in front of her.
‘The monster that he is’, he thought in sorrow.
He should have left the child, or called the right authorities to help her go to her home, as was to be the right choice in this instance. But Godric found himself slowly moving in caution towards the girl with a graceful stride that betrayed his otherworldly nature.
He kneeled in front of the young girl in silence, her gaze seemed to still be locked upon the darkened, but starlit sky.
Looking closer towards the tearful child, he saw her looking towards it in longing.
The sight of the young child, stirred a sudden feeling within him, a feeling he had long forgotten.
Tenderness .
The girl was such a tiny and thin thing. He could see her slight figure within the large clothing she wore. She was holding her hands tightly towards her chest, as though she were protecting them...
Confused, Godric examined her thoroughly then, but then his eyes had stopped upon something.
The young girl had burned marks upon her small hands.
His jaw flexed at the sight of them, but he continued in his examination of the young child.
Her breathing seemed to be laboured, which would be understandable by the crying and stressed state the young child was in, but Godric felt it was not all.
Especially with his vampire hearing.
She had a fractured rib.
His eyes narrowed at this, a flicker of concern, and anger mingling with detachment within his gaze.
The sight of the young child, unfortunately, reminded him of his own past.
A time he had hoped to forget, as any other memories he had forgotten of his past life after awakening as a vampire. But yet, its haunting presence always lingered in the depths of his own dark mind.
He had been a child once, a child who had been ripped away from his tribe, and forced into the life of servitude under a cruel Roman master.
Memories of pain, and suffering surged to the forefront of his mind. Memories he had tried to bury with what was left of his humanity upon awakening as a vampire. But the sight of the young child before him, stirred the dormant echoes of the past.
He knew that dwelling on his past would serve no purpose in this moment, so only gazed upon the child once more.
His voice, carefully modulated to avoid startling the fragile young girl, carried a gentleness that belied the turmoil within.
“Are you well, little one?” He inquired, his keen eyes fixed on her.
The young girl, startled by his sudden presence and the concern in his voice, looked up with wide, green, the brightest green he had ever seen in his eternal life, tear-filled eyes.
She looked like a little fawn to him in that instance, all wide-eyed and oh so spooked.
He felt a rumble within him. He was…chuckling? Here his eyes widened for a moment,
‘How strange.’ he thought.
“Hey! It’s rude to laugh at someone, you know, you- you meanie!” The girl then stuttered in anger and embarrassment. Her nose crunching up in such an endearing way, he thought in amusement. Before he changed his expression to a more neutral one, for the little one, so she would not take any offence to him.
“My apologies, little one. I meant no offence.” He calmly told the young girl.
When the young girl seemed to accept his apology, she then turned red in embarrassment yet again.
“I’m not little, I’m 7 years old. I’m a big girl!” She told him with a huff, which made it harder for Godric to contain his mirth, for the sight of the little one seemed to bring forth feelings he had long seemed to have forgotten.
Trying not to further enrage the little one, however endearing the sight seemed to be for him, he complied to her demand to be taken seriously.
“Forgive me then, for this generations perception of maturity has seemed to escape me. I will endeavour to not make that mistake again, little one.” He said in a gentle tone, which seemed to make the girl struck upon his tone for a moment, before she turned her head away with a huff.
“...You better.” She grumbled, like a miffed kitten. He could see that her cheeks have reddened once more in embarrassment, which made his lips twitch into a smile.
How endearing.
“Now, will you tell me if you are well, little one?” He then once more asked in gentleness.
The child stiffened before she replied to him, her gaze still not meeting his. Her voice trembled as she responded,
“I am f-fine.”
Not believing the child in the slightest, Godric reached out a hand towards the girl’s chin, and turned her towards him in a comforting way.
For children should be handled with care, after all.
Her eyes, which had dried up before, turned teary yet again when they met his.
“And do you believe you are fine, little one?” He simply asked.
The girl’s expression then contorted into pain, a tear falling from her eye.
“No.” She uttered with much sadness.
He then simply wiped the tear away.
Harriet's, or Harry as she demanded him to call her, face then turned to meet his gaze.
“My aunt, she cut my hair again…as you can see.” She whispered to him.
Godric’s brows furrowed in confusion, his mind grappling with the concept of a child being hurt by a haircut. But then he remembered the intricacies of the human world, its social norms and expectations that often evaded him. Well that, and also because of how his own childe could be when he would have a fit about the state of his hair. Thinking of that time brought along amusement within him. Seeming to feel his emotions through their bond, which he had closed for some time, his childe pushed the feelings of curiosity, happiness and concern towards him.
To not worry Eric any longer, he pushed the feeling of comfort towards his childe, to let him know he was alright. Which made his childe accept it and finally close the bond on his end.
He then turned to the other childe in front of him, instinctively seeking to comfort her, he reached out his hand towards her, which she seemed to readily accept. Which made her more endearing towards him.
“I am sorry that happened to you, little one. Hair, to my understanding, can be important to some, but it does not define who you are.”
Harriet then stared at him, her eyes seemed to shine in that moment,
“Thank you.” she softly said to him, a hint of a smile forming on her lips.
As they sat together, this time with him sitting next to her on another swing, which amused the little one before, because he was not knowledgeable on how one should proceed on a swing. Which the little one had made her mission to teach him how to swing from a swing. And from there, their conversations seemed to flow effortlessly. The little one shared stories about her life to him, while he listened attentively. And in return, Godric had shared a little bit of his own past.
And under the moonlit sky, the unlikely pair found solace in each other’s company. Godric’s presence became a source of strength for the younger girl. She had found a friend in him, a true friend, her first friend .
And in Harriet, Godric found light .
As the night wore on, Harriet’s tears were replaced with laughter, her sorrows from before had turned into hope. And Godric too, had then felt a profound sense of contentment.