[HP] The Tweed River flows

After guessing for a long time, no matter how curious people are, they will get tired.Even if I was born without my mother's foresight, after a long time, I will find that rumors are just rumors.Like the ripples slowly disappearing, those disturbing things have become some kind of anecdotes circulated in the market over time, adding more mystery to the great founders.A legend is something that is both true and false, isn't it?My mother has always stood at the center of the vortex, talking and laughing freely, and I am just a victim of misfortune.After a long time, it will be forgotten.

I progressed smoothly through the third and fourth grades, and there seemed to be no more big waves in my life.On the surface, I still maintain my impressive grades, even more restrained than before, at least around Searle; I am also more adaptable to the collective life of the school than before. Apart from Searle, there are at least a few others. A good partner.

But the ripples disappeared, and the stones still sank to the bottom of the lake.

That turmoil seemed to be a rain and dew, which germinated a seed that had been dormant in my heart for a long time.For the first time, I became acutely aware of what the absence of my father meant.He is not only a person who can protect you and love you, but also an integral part of your life.I've been missing that part since birth, no memory of him, no information about him, nothing about him.

I began to carefully wander among the classmates who had a slight relationship with the Ravenclaw family, inquiring about my mother's study tour in Greece, hoping to find any clues about my life experience.However, what is frustrating is that all the clues were broken in the year when the mother disappeared.Maybe except for herself, there is really no second person in the world who knows the identity of my father.In the past, I might still feel guilty about what she was hiding, but now, year after year of evasion will only make me feel bored.

At that time, I did not know this feeling called rebellion.

"Am I not even entitled to know what my last name is?" I once asked her bluntly.

Her throat moved, and I really thought she would say it, but a second before the truth came out, she changed her mind and used that old excuse to fool me for the thousandth time: "Helian Na, you are still young."

"I'm not young anymore," I said irritably.Adults always use this as an excuse and don't want to explain anything, and my mother was one of them. "I'm 14 years old, only you always think I'm still young, I've grown up listening to this sentence, I've heard enough."

She sighed and made a compromise: "Then how much do you want to know?"

"All."

"That's impossible," she refused bluntly, with a mother's authority.

"You can't keep it from me forever! I have a right to know who my father is!" I said angrily.

"If I tell you a little, you'll want to know more. Some things don't tell you because you're not old enough to know right from wrong. But I promise you, when you're old enough to handle reality, I will Tell you the whole truth, if you still insist on hearing it." She spoke earnestly, but this trick was useless to me.

"How do you know the truth will hurt me? In fact, it is more painful to be kept in the dark than to know the truth."

"If you had to choose between an ugly truth and a white lie, which would you choose?"

"The truth," I said without thinking, "I'd rather face the ugly truth myself than live a self-defeating lie."

"Even if the lie is to minimize harm? Even if the truth is too ugly to accept?"

"Those are all excuses for the weak to deceive themselves. I think I am strong enough to bear everything, instead of burying my head in the sand like an ostrich and escaping reality with so-called white lies." I remember that at the time, I answered for myself like that And proud.I firmly believe that I am a brave man, only those who dare not face the reality will weave and believe the so-called 'white lies'.

My mother looked at me with a look that was almost pity.She opened her mouth as if to say something, but finally held back and shook her head.I guess, that's another "you're still young".

"But, you know, what will I choose?" After a moment of silence, she asked again.

I frowned, the question was a bit puzzling.I guessed the answer, but not the reason.Although Ravenclaw is known for her wisdom, the mother was by no means for the faint of heart.

"Maybe it's shameful, but I still choose to lie. Even if it's illusory, you can live carefree in a beautiful world. Helena, you are too young to understand that you can live in a beautiful world." What a luxury of happiness lies in lies. What's more, some lies are out of love and protection." Her tone was calm, as if she was telling someone else's story without any emotion.I raised my face, looked at those gentle eyes like the ocean but couldn't see the end, and admitted helplessly that I was defeated again in the confrontation with my mother.

We never succeeded in understanding each other.As a result, my relationship with my mother became more and more alienated.She has her principles, and I also have my world, since we can't communicate, why bother with each other.I'm used to avoiding the corridors she often passes by, and meeting her gaze from behind when all the classmates greet her with "Good morning, Professor Ravenclaw".Of course Syl understood why, at first she tried to persuade me, but after a long time she also gave up, and could only shake her head regretfully, leaving a helpless sigh.