i need some meaning i can memorise

The late August sun poured through the window, bathing the room in gold. It made the pale blue walls seem almost warm. Almost.

Molly traced her fingers along the pieces of paper taped up to the walls. All of them quotes, copied from books, poems, and the occasional newspaper cutting. Nothing about the room gave any indication that it was occupied by a teenage girl, apart from a large poster of the lead singer of the Warblers. It had hung there for years, tattered edges.

The door swung open and with a swish of her dark hair, Lucy came in. At the sight of her sister, she tensed immediately.

"What are you doing in my room? God, I've told you so many times to knock, are you too thick to get it or something." Her glare was undeniably icy, but o obviously practised that it lost its edge.

Molly was used to this treatment from her sister. "Calm down. I was only looking for my Care of Magical Creatures textbook, thought I might find it in here."

She received another glare for this. "You know I don't take that subject, why would I want to read about something so stupid."

"It's not stupid! Hagrid's a right laugh!" Molly replied. "And anyway, you Ravenclaws, you read anything, right?"

"I read things that are actually useful."

There was finality in those words. Molly knew she should leave. She didn't want to though. Feeling Lucy's stare on her back as she wandered around, it was too much fun to give up. There was some pleasure derived from winding up a sibling that couldn't be achieved anywhere else.

"'Talent hits a target that no one else can hit; genius hits a target that no one else can see.' Who's that?"

"Arthur Schopehauer. A German philosopher," she added, when Molly twisted around to display her look of confusion. At this, the older sister stuck her tongue out in mock disgust.

Under her breath she read more of the quotes and with a deep frown, found exclusively on the faces of quietly worried older siblings, Molly banged out of the room.

.:.:.:.:.

Lucy was bent over a thick paperback. Over the long summer, she'd acquired a taste for muggle 'science fiction'. It fascinated her, how Muggles could imagine the future in a way Wizards never seemed capable of. And they made it happen, too. When she saw the door open once again in the corner of her eye, it took a concerted effort to tear her eyes away from the musty page.

It was Molly, again. This time, she was armed with a pile of parchment. They were all wavy, as if they'd just been dried out. After stumbling into the room she dropped her cargo on the floor.

"Okay right. I have been surfing this Internet thingy," Molly, like most Wizards was a little behind on Muggle technology, "and I have found some new quotes for you to have on your wall. Here," she said, pressing a handful into Lucy. An uninvited smile twisted on to Lucy's face.

"Why did you do this?" She murmured. Molly had a way for showing great affection in small ways, every so often, just as it had been forgotten.

"I just thought you could stand to be a little less Ravenclaw. Remember your roots and that," she added with a wink, or an attempt at one. It was more like a heavy blink.

Lucy sifted through the pages, smiling the whole time. She brushed one in particular, that Molly had excitedly underlined several times with her quill, so even the heavy parchment ripped a little.

"I like this one, reminds me of you, 'I speak to everyone in the same way, whether he is the garbage man or the president of the university.'"

"Yeah, I thought you would. It struck me as very Hufflepuff."

"Very you, you mean."

The comment had been meant in gentle gibe, so she was surprised when Molly fixed her with a serious stare.

"I worry about you working yourself too hard, you know. You strive to be this unattainably clever... thing. I don't know," she sighed. "And I'm worried it's just not possible and you'll end up hating yourself when you realise you're not, you can't become it."

The golden sun has set, the warmth has gone.

"You don't know- you don't know what it's like Mol." Lucy stammered out. "There's so much pressure from- from everyone. Dad and that. I just, I want to be something. You know?"

Percy tries to maintain a good relationship with his daughters, to be a good father, to be there for them. So, it was usual for the sisters to have to talk about their feelings. This, however, was unexplored territory.

"Yeah," softly spoken for once, Molly agreed. "I don't think I told you before, but the Sorting Hat wanted me to be in Ravenclaw. I had to beg for it to put me somewhere else. Ever since I've been terrified of never amounting to anything because I chose wrong."

"But you're so... good. Kind. Everybody likes you."

"Not quite everybody," she snorts. "But that's it, isn't it. Worrying whether being nice is really worth it if you can't be, I don't know, special. Unique. You want to be the kind of person that's so who they are that other people want to be like that. Blazing."

Lucy doesn't say anything, but her shiny dark eyes, staring out the window, are in agreement. It strikes Molly how young she really is. Fourteen. At fourteen, she thought she was ready for anything. Three years later and it's like every step towards the future is one towards a great big black unknown, full of sadness and not-quite-good-enoughs.

They're not so different, underneath the all the houses and the fake smiles and the attitude. Really, they both want to be everything. Want to be perfect and bright and scorching.

And maybe, together, they can be.


Apologies, this was written in a caffeine haze in the wee hours. It was meant to be all YAY SISTERS but then I started listening to Bright Eyes and it went all sadfeelingsfuturescary and I think I might have just splurged ALL THE FEELS into a fanfiction, yay!

Written for le House Quotes challenge over on the HPFC, thanks very very much for the inspiration from kissing flames c: