[HP] The Tweed River flows

It's been three days.It's been three days.My headache still shows no sign of relief.

From the moment I put on the crown late that night, this severe, almost dizzy headache has not stopped.I tried everything I could find to no avail, and countless thought fragments swirled in my head like a blizzard in my brain.

The mother returned home on the fourth day, and it is said that she interrupted the trip and rushed back early.I stayed behind closed doors in my room, but she immediately noticed something strange when she came back.

"Why didn't Helena come down for dinner?" Rowena looked at the vacant seats on the dining table, trembling in her heart.

"Oh, she says she's not feeling well, and she's shut herself up in her room for several days, and the house-elf delivers all her meals to the door, and she doesn't know what she's doing," Harris said casually.

"I'll go and see her first." She put down the knife and fork, turned around and walked upstairs.

"Helena?" She knocked tentatively on the door.

Hearing my mother's voice, my heart was filled with fear, and I couldn't help but bury my head deeper in the pillow.She'll find out, she'll find out... I thought desperately, my headache getting worse.

"Are you okay?" Seeing that I didn't respond for a long time, she began to twist the doorknob.

"I'm fine!" I said sharply, trying not to cry out, but the increasingly violent dizziness had already made my eyes black.

After a few seconds of silence outside the door, she whispered "Sorry", and immediately, the anti-opening spell I set, and even the lock cylinder with the handle shattered in an instant.

"Are you sick? Let me see," she hurried in, sat on the edge of my bed, lifted the corner of the quilt, and put her palm on my forehead as if to test the temperature, but when she touched me The skin instantly shrank back.

"Helena! Did you wear the diadem while I was away?"

I bit my lip and nodded behind her back, a tear fell from the corner of my eye inexplicably.

Mother drew out her wand, held the tip of it to my temple, and uttered a long, strange-sounding incantation, like an ancient mantra.The end of the wand emits faint blue light intermittently with the rhythm of the incantation, as if sucking away those chaotic memories.

The rapidly spinning images in my mind gradually slowed down, and the scenes became coherent and clear...I hid in the corner of the stairs and watched Hayden unwrapping birthday presents...Searle and I were lying by the lake sharing each other's secrets...Patrick became angry after being beaten Threats...The back view of Syl wearing a wedding dress and walking towards the altar...Paris and I lay side by side in the shade of a tree watching the sunset...He put his arms around my waist and kissed me in the dense forest...

I seemed to be standing in a silent void, and fragments of memory were falling like snowflakes.But then, I saw her, an existence that did not belong to memory like me—my mother stared intently at those pictures, her beautiful face was full of astonishment.

I jerked my eyes open and sat up, breaking free from her spell, and the scene and reality in my mind overlapped chaotically again.I shook my head, caught a glimpse of her expression from the corner of my eye, and felt a chill in my heart.

"Who is he?" she asked me in a low voice.

"there is no one."

"Who is that boy?" She emphasized her tone, and her voice suddenly became serious.

"you do not know."

"Who the hell is he?" she asked me one last time, exuding an undeniable authority.

I tied a strand of hair behind my ear, met her gaze confidently, and said, "He is the one I like."

"I've never seen him—"

"That's right," I took a deep breath and said it all at once, "because he's a Muggle and lives in the village downstream."

The mother's face suddenly lost all color, and she sat down on the chair behind her, repeating in a low whisper, "A Muggle?"

"Exactly," I said with my head held up, as if I still didn't think the matter was big enough, "don't you agree?"

Mother coughed violently as if choking, her breathing became short and flustered, "No, absolutely not—you must not fall in love with a Muggle!"

"Why?" Although I had expected her objection, I still felt a strong resistance, and retorted tit-for-tat: "So what about Muggles? Apart from not being able to use magic, he is no worse than a wizard in any way!"

"Because he's not from our world! You're going to die Helena, you're going to die for this!"

I stared at her blankly, too shocked to say a word.I had never seen my mother so violent, nor heard her say such terrible things.

"What's his name? Where does he live?" My mother looked me straight in the eye, her eyes sharper than ever.

Memories rolled uncomfortably in my mind, and Paris's face involuntarily appeared before my eyes.

"No—no!" I screamed, turning my head away, "You can't use Legilimency on me! You have no right to peek into my memory!"

"I'm saving you, Helena, I don't want to see you slipping into the abyss!"

"Is it for some noble, unknown reason again?" I glared at her. "It's like this every time. You forbid me to do what I want to do, but you never tell me why, just And it's for my own good to perfunctory me again and again. Don't you use excuses like this less often? "

"So you sneaked into my room late at night and looked at my personal stuff without my permission, right?" the mother raged.

Her voice was not high and her tone was not intense.But I realized that this time she was really angry.

"Do you think you're doing the right thing? Didn't I tell you that the diadem is so powerfully magical that it's dangerous to wear it without protection? One day, Helena, all I have will be It will all be yours, but why are you in such a hurry?"

"The crown?" I smiled contemptuously, "Don't be self-righteous, I don't care about the crown at all, and I don't value any wealth you left me. But you won't forget the other one you put in that box Something. That necklace—that little portrait! I'm only for it. If it wasn't for your repeated concealment, why would I have to use this method to track down my own life? I just want to know who my father is, Is this request too much?"

The mother's face changed suddenly, and she stabilized her body only after she helped the bedposts.

"Did you see that... portrait chain?" She said angrily, her voice was broken and her breathing became difficult, "It is true...that necklace belonged to your father...if you want...now it is yours It's..."

"So you'd rather give it to me than tell me the truth, right?"

"Is the past really that important?" She looked at me almost pleadingly, "Why can't you forget the past and take good care of the present? I won't tell you, it's actually your father's decision, because we all hope you can break away from the past shadow of—”

"—oh, that's enough, stop it, I'm tired of hearing excuses like that."

"Helena," she raised her voice and called my name, "can't we have a peaceful conversation?" She spoke earnestly, as if she was about to cry at any moment, "We don't talk about the past, we only talk about the present. We only discuss Your business, can't it?"

"Okay, okay, as you wish," I replied perfunctorily, looking away.

"Tonight, we need to have a good talk, but right now," said the mother feebly, rising slowly, "I think we'd better each of us calm down first."

-----

"Rowena, you have a bad complexion," said grandfather, staring at Rowena who had just returned to the dining table.

"Nine times out of ten it's because of Helena, did she quarrel with you again?" Rex asked lazily.

"She's not feeling well, I just saw her, and she's fine now," Rowena said stiffly.

"What happened?" Grandfather asked, frowning.

"It's nothing," Rowena said stubbornly, and stood up again, "I don't have any appetite, so I'm going to rest first."

-----

Late at night, my mother came to my room again.

She stooped to put the candlestick on my bedside table, conjured a chair by the bed and sat down.Under the shadow of the lamp, the mother described herself as haggard, and the traces of the years were finally revealed on her body.

"Just say what you want, let's get straight to the point," I said calmly, looking at her.

It's an odd feeling to be face-to-face, and it seems like we haven't spoken like this in a century.

"Don't be so impatient, Helena." She looked at me worriedly, and then sighed, "I'm not hostile, I just wanted to talk to you. If I remember correctly, we haven't been in depth for a long time. communicated."

I didn't take over.

"That boy... How long have you known him?"

"long time."

"How about the others?"

"good."

"Do you know him?"

"At least better than you."

"Helena," she called me by my name, with a hint of sullenness in her voice.I also realize that I seem to be a little too resistant.

"We've known each other since childhood, and we've been seeing each other by the woods. If you want to talk about time, it's about ten years." I said in a more flat tone, and eased my expression.

"Ten years?" she repeated in disbelief, seemingly shocked.

"Yeah, you never knew. Your daughter has been dating a Muggle kid for ten years," I said nonchalantly with a snort.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, then opened them again, as if she understood something. "I should have guessed it a long time ago. When you stay outside every day, you are actually meeting someone. It's just that I always thought that if you fell in love, you would tell me, at least let me know. It turns out that I overestimated myself."

I pretended not to hear, lowered my eyes, and absently fiddled with the tassels on the pillow.

"Helena, it's a Muggle you're in love with," said the mother in a low voice.

"I know."

"No, you don't know—"

"Of course I know," I said irritably, "Bloodline, family, reputation, status, don't you all care about these?"

"You're mistaken, Helena. I never cared about that."

"What is that for, because he can't use magic? But there are very smart people among Muggles, and many of them can do many things without magic, but wizards never bother to understand that's all. Can you imagine a wizard in the To travel through so many countries without the help of magic? But he did."

There was a faint smile on the mother's face, "Helena, I don't despise Muggles, let alone that boy. You don't have to be so excited."

"What's that?" I asked back, not realizing how aggressive I was now, "Since you keep saying you don't care about these things, why stop me from liking him?"

Mother looked distressed, "Because Muggles fear and hate magic."

"But do you know Muggles?"

"I--"

"Mother, you probably have never tried to get along with Muggles."

"Not really," she said, raising her voice over mine, and her tone became a little stiff, "Helena, please hear me out. We are discussing your future, not the relationship between wizards and Muggles. You You know, there are very few wizards and Muggles who can be happy together."

"But the combination of wizards and wizards may not be a perfect ending," I pointed out sharply.

Mother was visibly taken aback.

"You're right," she said softly, turning her face away, "The combination of wizards and wizards is not always a perfect ending."

"Then can we not discuss the issue of identity?"

"Then answer a few questions for me first," the mother said seriously, her tone becoming serious, "Does he know your identity?"

"He..." I was at a loss for words, did Paris know or not?

"Does that mean he doesn't know yet?"

"I tried to tell him... but he didn't seem to believe it..."

"That's the key."

I lowered my head and scratched lightly on the pillow with my nails.

"Then let me ask you again, if you are married to him, are you going to let him know or keep it from him? Do you want to constantly cast forgetting and confusing spells on him?"

"..."

"Can you live with the farewell wand if you choose to withhold the truth and never tell him?"

"..."

"Worse, if you don't tell him and he finds out, will he forgive you? Will your marriage break up?"

"..."

"Take a step back, even if he understands you and accepts you. But can you guarantee that his family and neighbors will accept you?"

"..."

"You are a very talented witch. But can you guarantee that in the long life, he will not be jealous of your talent?"

"..."

My mother's question was as sharp as a needle, pricking my heart almost to bleed.

"But what if he really doesn't care?" I said stubbornly, "There can be your kind of 'if' in the world, and there can be my kind. There should be no obstacles in front of true love, isn't it? As long as He really loves me, none of that matters anymore, right?"

"Do you understand what love is?" After a while, she said slowly.

"Isn't it a feeling of liking?" I looked at her blankly, not knowing why.

My mother gave me a deep look, as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't say it after all.I don't know what she was trying to say, but the look was eerily familiar: when I was a child, whenever I asked her who my father was, she would get the exact same look on her face.

"Love and the wand, if you had to give up one or the other, what would you choose?" she said finally.

The smile of Paris appeared in my mind. I bit my lips and thought about it. Tears seemed to flow out. I closed my eyes and said desperately: "Love."

"Then what if we exchange love and life?"

"Are you going to push me into a corner?"

My mother looked at me sadly, her voice was a little hoarse, "Helena, I'm just afraid. I'm really afraid that one day you will give up your life for love."

I didn't say anything.

"Does that boy really love you? Will he value love more than a wand, more than life, as you do?"

After a long silence, I whispered, "What if it is?"

"Then go," she said softly, her voice was as soft as a feather, and she seemed to finally give up the idea of ​​persuading me, muttering to herself: "If he really loves you, what's more important than this ?”

"Is this related to my father?" I finally couldn't help asking.Even after so long, I still can't control my curiosity like a child.

And she didn't seem to hear what I said, her expression became elusive.Mother stood up without saying a word, walked to the door like sleepwalking, stopped, and said, "Exactly."

"Then when are you going to tell me?" I yelled after her.

She didn't answer, but fled at a very fast speed.

This is our last peaceful conversation.

I thought I had convinced her that night, but then I found out I had failed anyway.As for the almost inaudible sob when the door was closed, it is impossible to verify whether it was her or my hallucination in the long memory.