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Chapter 17 - Fear

"You're long overdue for a haircut," said Tiara, and Christian's fork paused midway before it reached his mouth. He slowly put it down and said carefully, "I was hoping you would let me grow them."

The dining table immediately became silent, maybe even a little tense.

"Previously, you said I couldn't do it to look more 'presentable' (his hand doing the air quote) to society, but now, I don't think I will have this issue in the magical world."

Tiara resisted the urge to deny her son's request immediately. She did not like dreads or locks as a hairstyle for men, mainly because of how she was raised. In Haiti, such styles were often associated with criminals, gangs, and low lives. Although she was a witch and had to hide her identity, Tiara had many Muggle friends and was influenced by these ideologies.

After years of these ideas being ingrained in her head, she never allowed Zed to have long hair. But now, she also had to confront the fact that her ideas were somewhat backward, and her son had the right to choose. 

"He has a point," chimed Aunt Eleanor, and Christian wanted to give her a thumbs-up for the assist.

"Very well."

"Yes! I mean, thank you."

"I will take you to buy some products," added Tiara, somewhat begrudgingly.

"Are there any potions that can help?"

"Best to grow them naturally first before buying hair nourishment shampoo," Tiara warned, and Christian was alright with that. After dinner, he walked upstairs with some spring in his steps. In today's training, he made significant progress in transfiguration, and on the same day, he received permission to grow his hair — something he had wanted to do for so long.

His destination was his study room, but he suddenly stopped when he remembered he had never used his father's study despite receiving permission more than a month ago. So, he changed direction because he thought today was an excellent time.

As he opened the door, he saw a large room with a desk in the back and three large shelves full of books. He checked the books on the first shelf, and they were all about parenting, including early childhood development, the benefits of mental reinforcement, and how to regulate children's emotions at a young age.

The second shelf contained books about Haitian Voodoo, African-American Hoodoo, African Spirituality, Myths and stories about Orishas and Loas, and countless spiritual practices from different parts of the world. 'Are those used for her research on Tribal Magic? Maybe there is a connection,' Christian thought briefly before checking the third shelf. His eyes immediately lit up when he saw they were all magic books.

"Your mother was right. You are truly like me: a lover of knowledge."

"Who is speaking?" Christian suddenly turned as he raised his wand.

"I'm over here."

He followed the voice to a painting on the right side of the study's desk. He saw a tall but thin man dressed in jeans and a cozy sweater, with a small Afro and well-trimmed goatee, round glasses, and bright eyes.

"Son, I believe this is the first time we've met."

"Father?" He had seen pictures of his father before, but this was the first time he had spoken to him.

"Indeed. It's a shame that I can only see you in this form," Isaac Malik nodded with a sigh.

Christian remembered his mother telling him that paintings and photos in the magical world moved and had some level of sentience; they could even move from their frames.

"Wait — the painting in my room."

"Yes, your mother gave it to you so that I can visit. I would check on you every night after you sleep."

Christian finally understood the weird gap in that painting, most likely for his father. It also made sense why he felt that thing was watching him. The room became quiet as he did not know what to say. His mother did not tell him much about his father, making him more of a stranger than his genuine parent. So, he was a little awkward around him.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" he said. Since they did not know each other well, it would be best to change this.

"Okay. What do you want to know?" Isaac asked with a gentle smile.

"Hmm, we could start with my grandparents? Always wonder what happened to them." He knew from Aunt Eleanor that they were no longer with them, but no detail was even given to him.

"Unfortunately, they are both gone," replied Isaac. "My father died of dragon pox, and not long afterward, my mother died of sadness due to his departure. I was in my 6th year, and around that time, your mother also received terrible news about her family. We took care of each other, helped each other grieve."

"I'm sorry," said Christian. He always wished he had known any of his grandparents.

"No need. It has been so long." Isaac shook his head. 

"What about extended family?"

"My mother was an only child, and my father had a sister, but she died after consuming the wrong potion," Isaac replied, making the atmosphere a little awkward. Christian thought talking about family was a good conversation starter, but he did not expect things to be so bleak.

"How about I tell you about my time at Hogwarts? I was a Ravenclaw — the house of the wise and knowledgeable. From what your mother told me about you, you've inherited my quality, so I expect you should be in the same house."

Christian smiled in embarrassment. The two talked for the next few hours, mostly Isaac recounting his legendary tales (as he described them) during his time at Hogwarts. Most of it was uneventful until his fifth year, when he met Christian's mother, and her adventurous Gryffindor spirit forced him out of his shell.

"I think that's enough for today," concluded Isaac. "Your mother placed your school books on that shelf over there. She also placed my books and the notes I took. They might be useful, so I recommend you read them."

"Thanks," said Christian as he walked to the third shelf and picked up [Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1].

"I will leave you to your reading. If you ever want to speak to me, you can come here," said Isaac.

"I will."

From then on, Christian has had a new itinerary: to speak with his father's painting before reading the magical books in the study.

"What is this?" asked Christian, looking at the cabinet before him.

"Today's lesson is a famous tradition in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class — Bogarts," explained Tiara.

"The creature capable of showing a person's deepest fear?"

"Exactly. You remember the spell to deal with them?"

"I do."

"In that case, let's begin." Tiara walked away from the cabinet and opened it with a wave of her wand. Christian soon frowned as he saw that Aunt Eleanor was the one who showed up; he knew he was not afraid of her, so he wondered whether this Boggart was faulty.

"Christian, I have some bad news," said Aunt Eleanor, her voice quivering. "Your mother…her body was found. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid she won't ever return."

Christian felt his body become stiff as if he were a frozen corpse. His wand immediately became the heaviest thing in the world, and he almost dropped it.

'Calm down. It's not real,' he repeated in his mind before taking action.

"Riddikulus." Aunt Eleanor now had a mouthpiece that prevented her from speaking while wearing clown clothes. The ridiculous outfits made Christian feel better, and his racing heart gradually calmed down.

"Oh, Zed, I'm so sorry," said Tiara, embracing him tightly. She knew her constant absence had taken a toll on her son, but she did not expect it to be to this extent. Thinking how he must have lived with the constant fear of hearing something had happened to her, Tiara could not help but shed tears.

"It's okay; I'm okay," Christian reassured her. "Nothing has happened, right?" Tiara's body trembled as she remembered Papa Tounde's words that she should have died that night. She shivered, thinking what would have happened to her son had she not made it out alive from that ruin.

'Tiara, Tiara, what have you done? It's one thing to search for your husband but another thing to do so at the cost of your son's mental health,' she berated herself. She blamed herself for not listening to Eleanor.

"Yes, everything is alright. I promise you I won't leave again."

"Pinky swear?" asked Christian with a smile, and Tiara chuckled. She loved the rare moment when he acted his age.

"Pinky swear," she replied, hooking her pinky with his.

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