Who: Tracey Davis and Mirabelle Davis When: Christmas Day Where: Azkaban Prison What: Tracey visits her mother for Christmas Rating: Low Status: Logged/Complete
Tracey had never spent a Christmas alone before. But, here she was. Her friends weren't speaking to her, Clint was off in Spain and she wasn't about to go spend Christmas with her Muggle relatives. Never before in her life had Tracey felt so unwanted and unloved. She tried her best to tell herself that it didn't matter, but it did. It mattered more than anything had mattered before.
After waking up to a silent flat with a small tree twinkling with lights, Tracey made herself a cup of tea and sat down to have a spot of breakfast. She wasn't hungry. She showered, dressed and realized that there was no need for any of it. She had absolutely nothing to do on a day that had been enjoyable in the past.
It took her a few hours, but finally Tracey grabbed her cloak and flooed to the Ministry. Another floo trip and she found herself in the visitor's entrance of Azkaban prison. She surrendered her wand, gave her name and the name of the person she wanted to speak to. Tracey was told that she'd not be allowed to be alone with her mother and agreed to having the visit supervised. It wasn't as though she was coming to plot evil deeds with her mother. She was coming for answers.
Tracey was escorted to a small room with a set of chairs and a guard standing by. It took nearly twenty minutes before her mother was brought inside and the moment Tracey saw her, dressed in prison garb and looking dirty she laughed. Merlin, this woman, this pathetic excuse for a woman had been her mother? "Hello, Mother," she said coldly. "Having a nice Christmas?"
Mirabelle was less than amused and sat down, glaring at the small witch in front of her. "The merriest," she replied. "What is it that you want, my dear?"
What did she want? Well, that was a loaded question, wasn't it? Tracey wanted her life back. Or at least that's what she wanted a few weeks ago. Now? Now Tracey was finding a measure of happiness with her life. "I want to know if I'm anything like you. If I can be the wretched excuse for a witch that you are, but that's not possible. You're.. you're here. Locked away in a prison because you decided you were going to hurt the people I love. And that, my lovely Mother, is a big mistake." Tracey stood up, feeling an incredible amount of confidence and clarity washing over her. She was better than this. She was going to be so much more than anyone expected her to be. Tracey didn't have to be bound by who she was or what people expected her to be now.
"If you, or any of your friends, ever come near the people I love again you will regret it. You can keep my father's money. Keep everything you stole from me. And you're going to die alone. Happy Christmas, Mother."
With that, Tracey stood and nodded to the guard to let her out of the room. She walked with her head held high, feeling a spring in her step. It was a good Christmas, after all. Tracey had a new outlook on life.