Mother

[Ivy Tunstall]

Dear Mother,

I am writing to you because it has been a very long time since we have been in contact. And I hope to receive a response.

As you know, I have been at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for three years now. It is like my second home. I am learning things I could never have hoped to learn before. I have finally found something I excel at, and am not just mediocre any more.

I am aware that you oppose my attending the school, but I do not see why it should be an obstacle to your being a mother. When you have a child you have a responsibility to them. I have placed my trust in you for ten years of my life, and you shattered it when you deserted me. I am asking you now to restore it, thinking of the responsibilities you have towards your child.

I think it would be perhaps better not to mention the forfeit meeting in September that you decided not to appear at, but I already have and what I have marked on paper I cannot undo. A word and a stone, once launched, cannot be recalled. Whether your purpose in this was to prevent me from going to Hogwarts I am not sure, but all it succeeded in doing was hurting me again.

You have hurt me so very many times now. Surely you have your revenge. Can you not (smudged with tears) forget what has happened in the past three years and return to me and my father? If it pains you to see me, I will not be seen. I am at Hogwarts for the majority of the year in any case.

You know of my father's deteriorating health. I am sure you are not blind to the consequences of his death regarding myself. What do you plan to do then? At the moment I know nothing, only an uncertain future.

This letter, you could say, is a plea. It is a plea for your understanding, and that you return to be my mother. I need you now more than ever, and so, I believe, does my father. My future is now very much in your hands, and I hope that you will handle it carefully.

Your daughter,
Ivy Tunstall

[Ivy Tunstall]

Dear Ivy,

I am not even sure why I am replying to your last letter. I am much better off as I am, without you in my life.

I renounced you as my daughter when you went to that school. I have told you repeatedly that I do not wish you to go down that path. I have given you many opportunities to forsake the school which goes against all the values I tried to teach you when you were younger. As far as I am concerned, and to me that is all that I have to care about now, since I lost you, I no longer have any responsibilities towards you as my daughter. You are no longer my daughter.

I will not return. I have my own family to take care of, and it is not for me to worry about the family that has rejected me and my wishes.

Yours sincerely,
Emma Woods

[Ivy Tunstall]

Mother,

What you have written shows me that you are relentless in your demand, and it pains me. Surely it cannot matter to you what I do now that you are as indifferent to my father and I as you appear to be.

My father and I have not rejected you in any sense. Rather, I feel rejected by you. What responsibility of a ten year old is it to decide what path is best to take when faced with brilliance and excitement with alienation from her mother or an ordinary life continuing, always thinking back to what could have been, and keeping her mother, but never as close to her because she knows that her mother would make such serious threats?

I do not think that I should have had to take such a decision at such an age, and you gave me a slap in the face when you made me.

I can see still that you have no wish to associate with me or to help me continue after my father's death. I think this is a great shame on your part; it shows your unwillingness to do what you know is right. Or at least what you told me was right until the moment you left me forever.

Which family is it that keeps you away from myself and my father? That is more important than your daughter, even one who has disobeyed your wishes? I seek answers, as it is necessary for me to know, and soon will be utterly vital. I cannot manage without a mother any longer. I have done what I can for the past years, and now, with my father's fast deteriorating health, I am finding that I can go no longer. I have done what you said I would have to do. Now please come home.

Your daughter,
Ivy Tunstall.

[Ivy Tunstall]

Ivy,

I am sure your father must have told you. How are you trying to toy with my emotions? It will not work, I have stronger pulls.

The mother who you will never see again.

[Ivy Tunstall]

Mother,

I do not know what you are talking about. I have not been in contact with my father since half term, and I do not understand how what he had said should have helped me understand your replies.

Your daughter,
Ivy Tunstall.

[Ivy Tunstall]

Ivy Tunstall,

Please cease to harass my family. My wife has been constantly in tears over your letters and it has only been with the utmost persuasion and comforting that I have been able to help her to be composed enough to put together a reply.

Your mother no longer wishes to have any contact with you, and she has made this quite clear on several occasions. She has responsibilities towards the family that she has started with myself, and has made it clear that she no longer has any responsibilites towards you. She has younger children who are our pride and joy. She has renounced you and you are no longer her child. She has nothing to do with you and does not need to answer to you.

I have warned you, and do not expect any further correspondance on your part.

Yours sincerely,
John Rattenbury.