Words

[Larissa Sedgwick]

A single flake of snow drifted down from the clouds, attributing to the light smattering of snow laid across the ground outside. This was nothing compared to the last year she had looked from the window, nothing compared to the beautiful sight which now hung tensely from the dark clouds like an awkward teenager at the Yule Ball. The weather wasn't the only thing to become a disappointment to the young Death Eater.

Larissa drew a long sigh of breath. Her heart had felt so warm and full of love only this time last year. She had been so happy, so blessed. But now.. Since the birth of Lily, everything had gone downhill. Larissa no longer spent her evenings in the living room knitting, a sleeping baby resting atop her chest. No, now she spent her days locked away with her child in the study, writing constantly. Only at weekends did she dare to leave the comfort of the nursery. This day, in particular, was saturday. Saturday evening. She hardly remembered the saturday evenings back at Hogwarts. The countless hours spent studying in the library, or roaming the forbidden parts of the castle. The nights at Brightstone with a couple of friends and a butterbeer.. All were merely faded memories, now. Sepia dreams of another time.

The clock on the mantelpiece gave a loud tick. Time was passing before her eyes. It was slipping through her fingers like the sands of a warm summer beach. It would soon be up. Larissa shifted uneasily at the frozen window, watching neighbours passing through. She turned away from it, to glance at her husband and child. Andrew was trying to get Lily talking, dancing her across his knees, making babbling and cooing noises at her. Lily responded with coos and smiles, eagerly trying to push words through her lips. A smile almost struck Larissa's face, before she caught it and throttled it. No, she scolded, turning back to her view of the damp, snow-patched street, you don't deserve this. You don't deserve any of this. You have no right to feel happy.

 

[Lily Sedgwick]

The warmth of the logs burning softly in the fireplace, washed over the tiny child's skin like an invisible blanket. Lily pushed her lips together, trying to make a sound, to communicate with her father, but all that came out was a small "buh". She began gurgling at her father as he smiled and parroted the noise back at her. This, in turn, made her let out a giggle of sorts, and Lily began to flap her arms about herself. The world was a wonderful place for such a small creature. So full of hope and light and knowledge. In the day, she would be warmed by cuddles from her mother, and rewarded with the reading of stories and letters. In the evenings, she would see more of her father, whose lightly bearded face would tickle her as he kiss her cheek. Lily started experimenting with "o-hh" sounds, much to her father's delight.

 

[Andrew Sedgwick]

Andrew's eyes were alight with joy. Watching his daughter learn and grow had been the most magical time of his life. It was times like these that he so wished he had the money not to work, and could remain at home with Lily, day after day. His current delight came in encouraging her to mimic sounds he made. He had spent the past couple of weeks egging her on to make a 'dada' sound, though his attempts has so far gone to waste. She did manage a 'ah-ah' noise, and that was close enough for now.

Christmas had come to pass, and only a few days of December still remained. Just the thought of Christmas day still filled Andrew with an overwhelming sense of paternal pride. He had given Lily a cuddly unicorn that made a satisfying 'crunchy' noise when squeezed. His daughter had loved it, holding one of its hooves firmly in her grasp, while chewing on the horn protruding from its head. Larissa had been hard at work knitting again, and had made matching jumpers for the both of them, each bearing the image of a fairy. Andrew had laughed once they were both changed into their new jumpers. "Look at me," he had said to his wife, grinning, "a grown man in a fragrant blue fairy jumper! I love it!" Lily had chuckled, and the two of them had quickly been distracted by another game of word mimicking.

He did worry about Larissa, whether she knew this or not. His wife had grown so withdrawn in the weeks approaching Christmas, and now, with the new year looming, she barely spoke at all. She just stood there, staring out the window. Soundless. Andrew had enquired at work with his friends as to whether this was normal or not, and they had comforted him with the fact that some new mothers did suffer depression after the birth of their child. Still, there was something that didn't fit. But for the time being, Andrew's focus rested solely with his daughter. "Come on," he insisted, "say 'dada'.. dah-dah."

 

[Lily Sedgwick]

Lily babbled loudly, chuckling and swinging her little arms out towards her father, to tug at his clothes and chew on his jumper. He kept making the same sound, though she couldn't understand why. She knew what that noise meant. She knew it meant her father. She knew that if her mother said it, then her father would often materialise soon after. If her father said it, then it didn't make sense, because he was already there. She also knew another word that her father would say, though she had never managed to say it herself. It was the one that mean her mother would soon appear, would scoop her up in her arms and hold her tight. Lily jerked her head around erratically to look at her mother. "Umpha" she said, watching as the woman remained staring from the living room window.

 

[Andrew Sedgwick]

Andrew watched his daughter turning her head to try and see her mother. He moved his hand to better support her head, perhaps fearing that if he didn't, she would twist too far and all hell would break loose. Andrew awaited the response of his wife, a cooing sound of pleasure at such an adorable sight, but when no such sound came, Andrew turned his own head to stare at his wife. "Larissa?" he asked gently, "Larissa, she's talking to you." He waited again. Nothing. Maybe it was time he sought out professional help? What on earth was troubling her? Was it really all postnatal depression, or was something else the cause of all this upset? "Larissa.." Andrew felt Lily patting her tiny palms against his arms, a little impatiently. Her mother wasn't responding to her. She couldn't have understood why.

 

[Larissa Sedgwick]

Larissa hardly stirred from amidst the fog of thoughts that swelled within her head. Andrew's voice had grown so distant, so irrelevant, so pointless. The only time the two of them had spoken in recent months was to say hello and goodbye. The truth in the matter was that Larissa did not care for Andrew as she had been convinced she did during her pregnancy. This whole marriage had been a mistake, and yet, it was the only safety net she had. Long gone were the days when she could rely upon the support of Adrianne- the woman had got her own family to take care of, and a husband to keep in line. Larissa had no living parents, no siblings. Her step-father was in Azkaban. No, all she had in this cruel world was her daughter. She breathed deeply, blocking out Andrew's words, watching the snow turn to slush outside.

 

[Lily Sedgwick]

Why didn't her mother respond to her babbles? Why didn't she coo and comfort her? Lily's hands balled up into tiny fists, smacking against her father's arm, commanding some order. The fire continued to crackle and smoke up the chimney. Lily's toy unicorn that she seemingly referred to as 'dah', had tumbled to the floor some time ago, where it now lay with its legs splayed like a fallen warrior. Lily's eyes slid to her father, observing his attempts to call her mother's attention to the two of them. She watched as her mother ignored it all. Lily wanted her mother. She wanted her attention. She wanted to be held and talked to by her.

Lily's big blue eyes moved back over to the figure beside the window, her mouth dropping open as she began opening and closing her mouth. "Bah bah bah.." she began nattering away at her mother, "bah baba mah." Her father seemed too distracted by her mother. The two of them watched her standing in silence. "Mah.. Mah.." this sound felt good to play around with. It almost sounded exactly as the sound that summoned her mother did. Maybe if she could make the same noise, then her mother would be called to her attention? It was worth a try. "Mah.. Mah.." No response. Nothing. The word was not quite complete. "Mamm.." Lily stared hard at her mother, frustration building. She just wanted her mother to look at her, to tell her that she cared. "Mamma.." She burbled suddenly, patting her father's arm. "Mamma.."

 

[Larissa Sedgwick]

It was as though a hand had reached out from afar, and had taken firm hold of her shoulder. Larissa turned her head, initially not realising what she was responding to, what had called her out of the depths of her mind. But as she turned, she found two piercing blue eyes upon her, belonging to the tiny child. It was Lily. Lily was calling her. She heard the words. 'Mamma'. The word struck her like no other, they jabbed at her heart, they told her to pay attention because the world hadn't vanished simply because her heart felt heavy with sorrow. Her little girl had spoken. She had spoken for her mother, not for her father, not for anyone else. Just her. Larissa didn't know what to say. She just watched the tiny child applauding herself with babbles and gurgles, mingling with that same word. A smile began to silently cross Larissa's face, but this time, she did not stop it.

 

[Andrew Sedgwick]

Andrew couldn't quite believe his ears. Immediately, his eyes were back on his child, open-mouthed with surprise. "She spoke!" he heard himself declaring joyously, glancing from his wife to his daughter, and back. Lily seemed quite pleased with herself, also. It was the first time Andrew had seen Larissa smiling in a very long time. It lit up the room. There was hope for them yet, surely this was a sign? Lily could save his wife from her depression. Andrew believed that she could. "You said 'mamma'!" He beamed at his daughter, gesturing towards Larissa. "Mamma!" He exclaimed boldly, just pleased that his daughter had spoken. A film of tears formulated in his eyes. Alright, it could have been better, her first word could have been 'dada' or 'papa', but the point was that she had started speaking. This occasion was definitely going down in his next letter home.