Mira listened with interest as her brother described this 'Imperius Curse', reminiscent to when he'd described her spells he'd learned at Hogwarts, all those years past. Except, this time this lacked the light-heartedness of those times, as much as could one describe them as such, given that she hadn't been herself.
Indeed, that explained many things. On that Christmas day, Father had called her in his study and ever since she had been sick. The Imperio Curse might have rendered her his puppet, but it hadn't erased her memories. It all came crushing down on Mira: the way her father had looked at her, his face a mixture of pity and determination and then... a haze. A previously energetic child bound to her bed, preferring rest to play. So many years lost, to a bed and a wheelchair.
Emotion overcame her, tears burning at her eyes. "Papa did this to me?"
Indeed, that explained many things. On that Christmas day, Father had called her in his study and ever since she had been sick. The Imperio Curse might have rendered her his puppet, but it hadn't erased her memories. It all came crushing down on Mira: the way her father had looked at her, his face a mixture of pity and determination and then... a haze. A previously energetic child bound to her bed, preferring rest to play. So many years lost, to a bed and a wheelchair.
Emotion overcame her, tears burning at her eyes. "Papa did this to me?"
“I have a very childlike rage, and a very childlike loneliness.”
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