Kept Secret

James glanced at his clock. 1:00AM glowed brightly into his dark brown eyes. His stomach growled loudly and filled the silence. He decided to head downstairs for a small snack. Just to hold his hunger over until morning.

He walked past the door to his dad's study where a single light illuminated a sliver of the hallway. He heard his parents' voices from within. James crept closer to the door to see his mother's fiery red hair facing him and covering his father's face. What were they doing up this late?

"Don't you think they have the right to know? They're your children for Christ sake!"

His father pinched the bridge of his nose, "No. This is supposed to be a safe world for them. Why tell them about the horrid past?"

"Because they have a right to know why their father is famous."

"You know it's forbidden to speak of. Even if I wanted to, I can't. We need not plague their minds."

"If you don't tell them, either someone else or I will."

"You wouldn't dare. You know the consequences of telling the young ones of Voldemort."

"I don't care about the bloody consequences! Why should we hide it?"

"There is a reason they banned books from printing things from our childhood. There is so much to the story you don't know. There was a prophecy made afterwards. A prophecy I heard with my own ears. if an easily influenced child is told the tale... History will repeat itself, but perhaps with a different ending."

"History will... You mean, there will be a new..."

"Yes. We must keep it a secret. A secret that will protect our present and our futures."

James backed away slowly from the door. What in history will repeat itself? What was a "Voldemort"? What did it even do? The study door creaked and James scurried off to the kitchen for his snack. He glanced back to see his father absent-mindedly rubbing the scar on his forehead. The one from a broom accident. Or... Was it not even a broom accident after all?

Kept Secret

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