Perfect

So you work and you slave to get your child everything she wants, and then all on her own she finds her heart's desire. And she brings him home. And he's a wizard. You don't want to hate him, but you don't want to like him either. He's not normal! You wanted your baby girl to have everything in life: a stable income, a nice house, and a hard-working boy-next-door type. He's not at all like that. Or at least you don't think he is. Her wizard seems nice enough, but his clothes aren't quite right. He says odd things. He makes her laugh when all you want to do is cower. So you do the only thing you can do. You invite him to dinner.

He arrives early, carrying flowers you've never seen before. He even dresses normally, for your sake you suppose, though he doesn't remove that odd earring. You shake his hand and vigilantly try to smile. He senses your unease, and tries to ignore it. He does well. You ask him to be seated and your daughter sits next to him. They laugh quietly as you go into the kitchen. You take a moment longer than you should to fetch dinner. You need to pull yourself together. You suppose it works, as neither of them comments as you place the food on the table.

"This is delicious," he says as he eats, smiling in your direction. You smile back, appreciative of his attempts to make everything - normal.

You ask him about his family. "Do you have any siblings?" It's asked politely. You want to get to know him. You do, for her.

He smiles a bit sadly. "Quite a few, though we lost two of my brothers a few years ago."

He's talking about that war your daughter mentioned. A war? you think. How could there have been a war without anyone noticing? But then you look at him, and see the little scars here and there. You see the sorrow and the grief hidden on his face. You realize that perhaps there was a war, and perhaps he lost a great deal.

Your daughter puts her hand on his arm, comforting him silently. "His family is wonderful, mum. You'll love them, I know it." His smile loses a bit of its sorrow with her support. Love his family? You ponder it slowly. You need to love him first. You'll meet them someday soon, you respond.

"And your parents? Are they..." you pause at the word, "wizards too?"

They ignore the pause. They can see you're trying. They're trying too. He nods. "My family have been wizards for generations. My dad worked for the Ministry of Magic." He pauses a moment. "Mum'll love to meet you." He worked for the Ministry? His mum would like to meet you? You glance at the boy shrewdly. Yes, it seems he lost a great deal. You're sure you'll love to meet her too, you reply.

"And what do you do? Are you out of school?" You pause uncertainly. "Do wizards even have school?"

Your daughter stills a bit at the question. She's afraid you will embarrass her. He takes the question in his stride, however. "Yes, we have school, and yes I'm out of school. The one here in England is called Hogwarts. I left years ago." He takes a small sip of the wine you've poured. "I work at a bank actually, a wizarding bank."

You smile a little, a genuine smile. Banking is something you can understand, not like this magic. "Well, that's very nice," you say and your daughter relaxes. That danger, at least, is past. The conversation moves to other things, safer things, even if they do have to do with magic.

You ask him about his Ministry. "Are they a good sort? Or do they fumble about like all other politicians?"

He laughs then, a genuine laugh, and you can almost see why your daughter likes him. No, why she loves him. "They've improved recently," he replies. "The new Minister is much better than the last."

The conversation continues, and eventually you ask the question you're not sure you want to ask. "What was... what was this war about?"

They exchange a look, and he nods after a moment. "It was about power and a man who wanted too much of it. It was about freedom and people who wanted to live without the fear of death. It was about good never giving in to evil." He goes on, explaining about some villain called Voldemort. What kind of name was that? Sounds like moldy cheese in your opinion. He talks about the people who fought him and how they never gave up, even when defeat seemed inevitable. You listen for a while, hearing the emotion in his voice, and you realize something. He's just a boy. He's a boy who's had to grow up too quickly; a boy who's lost more than he should have; a boy with magical powers, but a boy nonetheless.

You leave them alone after dessert. As you wash the dishes, you glance out at them. They're sitting closely, talking softly. Your daughter says something, and he laughs again. She brushes a long strand of hair out of his face and keeps talking. He looks at her with an expression that you remember from days gone by. And, for just a moment, you see your husband in him. You see that glint of goodness and love as he gazes at her. You see the emotion that means he'll do anything to protect her. You see that, perhaps, this wizard is more than a boy. Perhaps he is a man in love with your daughter. You turn away, leaving them to their conversation.

He comes into the kitchen to say good-bye a while later. You return his smile as he shakes your hand and, on impulse, pull him in for a hug. He is surprised at first, then glad. He understands. You invite him to come back some time. You enjoyed having him. He sees the sincerity in your expression and he accepts. He leaves with a smile on his face.

Your daughter enters the kitchen. She sits across from you. "What do you think?" she asks. She tries to seem confident, but you can see the uncertainty in her. She really does love him, you realize. More than all the others she's brought home, more than any other you've ever met.

In response you smile, meet her gaze, and place your hand over hers. "He's perfect," you respond. She smiles in relief and holds your hand more tightly. You don't even need to lie to her. He is perfect.

Perfect for her.