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The recent Hogwarts Graduate had begun to feel a little out of place. He had spent a lot of his time wandering around his home, as he cleaned up. Wishing that he didn't even have to. Going through his parents belongings had proved to be quite a difficult task. There was so much he was learning about them. So much about their lives that he hadn't known. He had found the videos of him as a child. His father had taken an video camera, goodness knows where he had managed to get it from, and filmed the young baby boy smiling up at it. Healthy weight, healthy everything. He knew it was his father filming, he heard it. The voice was the same, but the tone had been completely different. It had begun to be pretty hard for the former Slytherin who had always had this idea of his father being the awful man who had hated him, to believe it really was the same person. Watching the video Stefan had just realised that he might've been wrong about what kind of man his father had been. His father had gone from being the man in the video to the man he remembered. The former slytherin simply didn't want to believe it was the same person, but every part of him was telling him, convincing him that it was. That the father he'd seen in the video was the one who had at one point just stopped loving his only son. After that revelation, the monochromatic teen had continued more slowly. Treasuring each little bit of paper that had been his parents before he had come along. He hadn't found much else like the video, he had found a video of his parents, well, what he imagined was a video of his parents. Stefan had not brought himself to sit and watch it just yet, understandable since Stefan had only recently even seen a picture of his mother, to see a video of her, possibly smiling, laughing, even talking, he didn't think he could handle it just yet. Instead he had put it to one side and left it for when he felt just that little braver than he felt currently. Through all of this, he found a longing to see his parents. To ask what had happened. He read the papers, found the old baby clothes. All the things that had shown that at one point the first of this Archer clan had been all right. They had functioned as a family. They had been a unit of three people happily together. Stefan had found it upsetting to know what had become of his father following the end of that. It was hard to say the least. How was a young teen of only eighteen years old possibly going to wrap his head around the fact that before him, his parents had been happy. His father non-violent. For the first time, in a long time, Stefan wondered if they would've actually been better off without him. Better off not having a kid. As much as he was truly happy where he was currently, a part of him could only imagine the sort of life the two could've had, had he not been born. Or at least not born so soon.
During all of this searching, Stefan had stumbled upon a bit of paper with an address scrawled upon it. He had stared at it for some time before realising that it was his father's hand writing. It was a written note from his father, an address, with no name, no nothing. This sparked a small amount of curiosity within the young man. He wasn't sure where it lead. Possibly a friend of his father's something like that. In any case he had decided to find out. He had gone to the library in the local muggle village, and discovered in reality that it was a cemetery, where he assumed his mother lay. Stefan had returned home feeling pretty numb. In all his years, he had never been to her grave, or left flowers. anything. His father had always completely shut him down when he asked after his mother. Eventually Stefan had stopped asking. Clearly it had been too painful for his father to talk about, and the punches had gotten harder. Too painful for both parties in two very different ways. To begin with, Stefan had decided against going completely. His mother wouldn't want to see him, not now. Not after so long, if there was a heaven, or anything like that. She probably would be fairly annoyed that he hadn't asked after her more with his father. That he hadn't made more of an effort. The former slytherin had just always let his eyes drift up to the sky, to the stars he had barely been able to see, and spoke to his mother. Whenever he had spoken to his mother, it had always gotten more difficult to speak, or see. The tears would stream down his face. Why had she left him with such a terrible man? That had always been his question. After starting at Hogwarts, he did it less and less. Since he cried every time without fail, he had stopped speaking to her, just in case someone saw and made fun of him for it. Then everything had happened, and he just hadn't. A part of him felt bad. He had briefly thought of his mother during graduation. While speaking with those members of his family that had been hidden from him. Instead of just building up the courage to just go to the cemetery Stefan Archer hadn't. He'd put the address somewhere he was sure he'd forget about it, and continued on. However, after a few more days of boring sorting, tidying and cleaning. Stefan had stumbled upon the picture that had simply stopped him in his tracks. It was a very small picture, a colour picture, though he'd never know it. Stefan had stared at it for what had seemed like hours. It was taken in the living room he was standing in, it was his mother smiling, while his father had arm around his wife holding her close to him, with the biggest of smiles, between them, was a small baby. Wide eyes, smiling being held by both parents.
It had taken all of ten minutes, for the former slytherin to get a jumper on, the address of this place, and then heading out. He had first, gone out the back of the house, and picked some wild flowers that grew out back, before looking at the address once more, and hurriedly apparating to where it was. Upon arrival he was at first unsure as to if this was the right place. He was glad to know he was right. He stood in the archway, of an old slightly run down cemetery. Stefan looked at the address in his hand, before stuff the paper into his pocket. He looked around himself, before realising that in the distance the sun was rising. Was it really that early? he had completely lost track of time. Without much more thought, the former Slytherin stepped forward and wandered. He had no idea where his mother would be. What it would look like, anything about it. He didn't even know how far he really was from his house. he just looked from grave to grave, seemingly disappointed each time it wasn't his mother. He just needed this. Needed to be faced with something that was her. To be close to his mother, even if he was above ground. He hadn't been near his mother in so long, he didn't even remember any of the times that his mother had held him. He'd been too young. His father had stopped holding him in a loving fashion Stefan believed around the same time as when his mother had died. He felt nerves within him rise, though he wasn't sure why. He searched for a good hour, wandering slowly up and down each row, finding nothing and getting increasingly nervous that in fact he had gotten the address wrong, or his father had. Stefan however, noticed it, from a few rows back. This caused more nerves to erupt within him. The flowers in his hand, hung limply clenched a little too tightly in his hand. He had no money to spare for real flowers, this was all he could give her, and as he glanced at them, he felt pretty pathetic, that he couldn't even do that for his mother. Stefan felt tears forming in his eyes. He was glad of the glasses he now wore. It made it more difficult he imagined to really tell if anyone was crying. Slowly, more slowly than before Stefan made his way over. Walking round instead of over. He stood in front of the grave, carefully reading the words etched upon it, Aurora Grace Archer, Proud Mother and Wife, Born 1997, Died 2017. At the proud mother, Stefan had simply found his legs couldn't support his weight. He had been sat on the cold ground before he had register what was happening. Proud Mother. Stefan had smiled sadly at it, he didn't even know how to address it. Mum had been how he had before, but this seem altogether more personal than that. He read the words over once more.
"Hey Ma," The words had slipped from his lips before he could stop them. He had simply been unable to say anything else. He had never felt so, close to his mother before. Stefan placed the flowers down in front of him. Letting his eyes fall to them, before he glanced back up at the stone in front of him. Stefan sighed slightly, the small sad smile upon his face appearing once more. The tears unshed for his lost mother after a number of years finally falling. Slowly making their way down the former slytherin's cheeks. "Been a while," He stopped, reaching into his pocket, and fishing out the picture of his family from his pocket. Of his family. "I found this, I guess, made me want to see you." He gave a small laugh, while a sob came at the end, "But, I couldn't. You know because you're dead" Stefan shook his head, and brought his hand up to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of his jumper. "This was the closest I could get, pretty sad huh" he wiped away the tears again. "Dad's dead, hopefully he's happy now. With you. Don't hold what he did to me against him. He was in a bad place. Losing you was hard for him." He found his words silly as soon as he spoke them, but he couldn't stop himself from saying them. Glancing down at the picture, "Everyday I wish, I could just see you, just one last time you know. Just so I could tell you that I'd always love you. Always." Stefan once again made to wipe the still falling tears. He glanced round and noticed a small church not too far from him. "I miss you so much, ma. So much, ma." with that, Stefan stumbled to his feet. Unsteady, his vision unclear from the still falling tears. He glanced one last time at the grave before heading in the direction of the church. Stefan was not a religious person, but, he wasn't ready to go home, and he had no money to buy something warm for breakfast and sit somewhere nice. All he had was the church. The good thing was that he was close to his mother.
Walking into the old church, Stefan took a seat fairly near the front. The serenity, and calmness of the church washing over him. Bowing his head, he took off the glasses, placing them down beside him barely in time as the tears streamed down his face. Letting the tears, and the harsh sobbing win over the calmness he had been fighting to regain. Stefan had fought so much over the past few years, been through so much, he was allowed this. This breakdown he was allowed. The picture was tightly clutched in one hand, and the other hand, covering his eyes, as the tears streamed. While things were now a lot better than they had been before. It didn't make dealing with what had happened any easier. Stefan knew that the subject of his mother would always be a touchy one, but, that was okay. He had friends now, they'd be there for him. He was glad of that. Just like he was all right with this breakdown, while alone in this church.
The recent Hogwarts Graduate had begun to feel a little out of place. He had spent a lot of his time wandering around his home, as he cleaned up. Wishing that he didn't even have to. Going through his parents belongings had proved to be quite a difficult task. There was so much he was learning about them. So much about their lives that he hadn't known. He had found the videos of him as a child. His father had taken an video camera, goodness knows where he had managed to get it from, and filmed the young baby boy smiling up at it. Healthy weight, healthy everything. He knew it was his father filming, he heard it. The voice was the same, but the tone had been completely different. It had begun to be pretty hard for the former Slytherin who had always had this idea of his father being the awful man who had hated him, to believe it really was the same person. Watching the video Stefan had just realised that he might've been wrong about what kind of man his father had been. His father had gone from being the man in the video to the man he remembered. The former slytherin simply didn't want to believe it was the same person, but every part of him was telling him, convincing him that it was. That the father he'd seen in the video was the one who had at one point just stopped loving his only son. After that revelation, the monochromatic teen had continued more slowly. Treasuring each little bit of paper that had been his parents before he had come along. He hadn't found much else like the video, he had found a video of his parents, well, what he imagined was a video of his parents. Stefan had not brought himself to sit and watch it just yet, understandable since Stefan had only recently even seen a picture of his mother, to see a video of her, possibly smiling, laughing, even talking, he didn't think he could handle it just yet. Instead he had put it to one side and left it for when he felt just that little braver than he felt currently. Through all of this, he found a longing to see his parents. To ask what had happened. He read the papers, found the old baby clothes. All the things that had shown that at one point the first of this Archer clan had been all right. They had functioned as a family. They had been a unit of three people happily together. Stefan had found it upsetting to know what had become of his father following the end of that. It was hard to say the least. How was a young teen of only eighteen years old possibly going to wrap his head around the fact that before him, his parents had been happy. His father non-violent. For the first time, in a long time, Stefan wondered if they would've actually been better off without him. Better off not having a kid. As much as he was truly happy where he was currently, a part of him could only imagine the sort of life the two could've had, had he not been born. Or at least not born so soon.
During all of this searching, Stefan had stumbled upon a bit of paper with an address scrawled upon it. He had stared at it for some time before realising that it was his father's hand writing. It was a written note from his father, an address, with no name, no nothing. This sparked a small amount of curiosity within the young man. He wasn't sure where it lead. Possibly a friend of his father's something like that. In any case he had decided to find out. He had gone to the library in the local muggle village, and discovered in reality that it was a cemetery, where he assumed his mother lay. Stefan had returned home feeling pretty numb. In all his years, he had never been to her grave, or left flowers. anything. His father had always completely shut him down when he asked after his mother. Eventually Stefan had stopped asking. Clearly it had been too painful for his father to talk about, and the punches had gotten harder. Too painful for both parties in two very different ways. To begin with, Stefan had decided against going completely. His mother wouldn't want to see him, not now. Not after so long, if there was a heaven, or anything like that. She probably would be fairly annoyed that he hadn't asked after her more with his father. That he hadn't made more of an effort. The former slytherin had just always let his eyes drift up to the sky, to the stars he had barely been able to see, and spoke to his mother. Whenever he had spoken to his mother, it had always gotten more difficult to speak, or see. The tears would stream down his face. Why had she left him with such a terrible man? That had always been his question. After starting at Hogwarts, he did it less and less. Since he cried every time without fail, he had stopped speaking to her, just in case someone saw and made fun of him for it. Then everything had happened, and he just hadn't. A part of him felt bad. He had briefly thought of his mother during graduation. While speaking with those members of his family that had been hidden from him. Instead of just building up the courage to just go to the cemetery Stefan Archer hadn't. He'd put the address somewhere he was sure he'd forget about it, and continued on. However, after a few more days of boring sorting, tidying and cleaning. Stefan had stumbled upon the picture that had simply stopped him in his tracks. It was a very small picture, a colour picture, though he'd never know it. Stefan had stared at it for what had seemed like hours. It was taken in the living room he was standing in, it was his mother smiling, while his father had arm around his wife holding her close to him, with the biggest of smiles, between them, was a small baby. Wide eyes, smiling being held by both parents.
It had taken all of ten minutes, for the former slytherin to get a jumper on, the address of this place, and then heading out. He had first, gone out the back of the house, and picked some wild flowers that grew out back, before looking at the address once more, and hurriedly apparating to where it was. Upon arrival he was at first unsure as to if this was the right place. He was glad to know he was right. He stood in the archway, of an old slightly run down cemetery. Stefan looked at the address in his hand, before stuff the paper into his pocket. He looked around himself, before realising that in the distance the sun was rising. Was it really that early? he had completely lost track of time. Without much more thought, the former Slytherin stepped forward and wandered. He had no idea where his mother would be. What it would look like, anything about it. He didn't even know how far he really was from his house. he just looked from grave to grave, seemingly disappointed each time it wasn't his mother. He just needed this. Needed to be faced with something that was her. To be close to his mother, even if he was above ground. He hadn't been near his mother in so long, he didn't even remember any of the times that his mother had held him. He'd been too young. His father had stopped holding him in a loving fashion Stefan believed around the same time as when his mother had died. He felt nerves within him rise, though he wasn't sure why. He searched for a good hour, wandering slowly up and down each row, finding nothing and getting increasingly nervous that in fact he had gotten the address wrong, or his father had. Stefan however, noticed it, from a few rows back. This caused more nerves to erupt within him. The flowers in his hand, hung limply clenched a little too tightly in his hand. He had no money to spare for real flowers, this was all he could give her, and as he glanced at them, he felt pretty pathetic, that he couldn't even do that for his mother. Stefan felt tears forming in his eyes. He was glad of the glasses he now wore. It made it more difficult he imagined to really tell if anyone was crying. Slowly, more slowly than before Stefan made his way over. Walking round instead of over. He stood in front of the grave, carefully reading the words etched upon it, Aurora Grace Archer, Proud Mother and Wife, Born 1997, Died 2017. At the proud mother, Stefan had simply found his legs couldn't support his weight. He had been sat on the cold ground before he had register what was happening. Proud Mother. Stefan had smiled sadly at it, he didn't even know how to address it. Mum had been how he had before, but this seem altogether more personal than that. He read the words over once more.
"Hey Ma," The words had slipped from his lips before he could stop them. He had simply been unable to say anything else. He had never felt so, close to his mother before. Stefan placed the flowers down in front of him. Letting his eyes fall to them, before he glanced back up at the stone in front of him. Stefan sighed slightly, the small sad smile upon his face appearing once more. The tears unshed for his lost mother after a number of years finally falling. Slowly making their way down the former slytherin's cheeks. "Been a while," He stopped, reaching into his pocket, and fishing out the picture of his family from his pocket. Of his family. "I found this, I guess, made me want to see you." He gave a small laugh, while a sob came at the end, "But, I couldn't. You know because you're dead" Stefan shook his head, and brought his hand up to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of his jumper. "This was the closest I could get, pretty sad huh" he wiped away the tears again. "Dad's dead, hopefully he's happy now. With you. Don't hold what he did to me against him. He was in a bad place. Losing you was hard for him." He found his words silly as soon as he spoke them, but he couldn't stop himself from saying them. Glancing down at the picture, "Everyday I wish, I could just see you, just one last time you know. Just so I could tell you that I'd always love you. Always." Stefan once again made to wipe the still falling tears. He glanced round and noticed a small church not too far from him. "I miss you so much, ma. So much, ma." with that, Stefan stumbled to his feet. Unsteady, his vision unclear from the still falling tears. He glanced one last time at the grave before heading in the direction of the church. Stefan was not a religious person, but, he wasn't ready to go home, and he had no money to buy something warm for breakfast and sit somewhere nice. All he had was the church. The good thing was that he was close to his mother.
Walking into the old church, Stefan took a seat fairly near the front. The serenity, and calmness of the church washing over him. Bowing his head, he took off the glasses, placing them down beside him barely in time as the tears streamed down his face. Letting the tears, and the harsh sobbing win over the calmness he had been fighting to regain. Stefan had fought so much over the past few years, been through so much, he was allowed this. This breakdown he was allowed. The picture was tightly clutched in one hand, and the other hand, covering his eyes, as the tears streamed. While things were now a lot better than they had been before. It didn't make dealing with what had happened any easier. Stefan knew that the subject of his mother would always be a touchy one, but, that was okay. He had friends now, they'd be there for him. He was glad of that. Just like he was all right with this breakdown, while alone in this church.