Heaven Sent
The Quarry
I'm heaven sent,
don't you dare forget.
I am all you've wanted,
what all the other boys all promised.
Sorry I told. I just needed you to know.
I think in decimals and dollars.
I am the cause to all your problems,
shelter from cold. We are never alone.
Coordinate brain and mouth.
Then ask me what's it like to have
myself so figured out.
I wish I knew...
I hope this song starts a craze.
The kinda song that ignites the airwaves.
The kinda song that makes people glad
to be where they are,
with whoever they're there with.
This is war.
Every line is about,
who I don't wanna write about anymore.
Hope you come down with something
they can't diagnose, don't have the cure for.
Holding on to your grudge.
Oh it's so hard to have someone to love.
And keeping quiet is hard.
Cuz you can't keep a secret
if it never was a secret to start.
At least pretend you didn't wanna get caught...
we're concentrated on falling apart.
We were contenders, not through in the fight.
I was just wanna believe, I just wanna believe,
I just wanna believe, in us.
Oh, we're so c-c-c-c-c-controversial.
We are entirely smooth.
We admit to the truth,
we are the best at what we do.
and these are the words you wish you wrote down.
This is the way you wish your voice sounds,
handsome and smart.
Oh my tongue's the only muscles on my body
that works harder than my heart.
And it's all from watching TV,
and from speeding up my breathing.
Wouldn't stop if I could.
Oh it hurts to be this good.
You're holding on to your grudge.
Oh it hurts to always hafta be honest
with the one that you love.
Oh, to let it go...
we're concentrated on falling apart.
We were contenders, not through in the fight.
I was just wanna believe, I just wanna believe,
I just wanna believe.
We're concentrated on falling apart.
We were contenders, not through in the fight.
I was just wanna believe, I just wanna believe,
I just wanna believe, in us.
This is the craze that only we can bestow.
This is the price you pay for loss of control.
This is the break in the bend;
this is the closest of calls.
This is the reason you're alone,
this is the reason you breathe.
We're concentrated on falling apart.
We were contenders, not through in the fight.
I was just wanna believe, I just wanna believe,
I just wanna believe.
We're concentrated on falling apart.
We were contenders, not through in the fight.
I was just wanna believe, I just wanna believe,
I just wanna believe, in us.
I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't - Brand New
It was one of those pleasant summer days. The ones you always picture when the topic of summer floats into your mind during the frigid winter- bright, sunny, but with just enough of a breeze to keep you in comfort. It was most definitely not her own will by which she was held inside.
Lydia gazed out the dusty windows to the people who trotted along the paved stones of Diagon Alley. Couples walked hand in hand and smiling dumbly from time to time while children ran to and fro, returning to their parents at their own pleasure. Teenagers flocked the street in large packs, stopping from window to window to look at the odd assortments one would only find in the Alley. Of course, they never stopped there, at least not until the last week in August. Flourish and Blotts was not exactly the coolest place for the youth of the wizarding world to gather, thus leaving Lydia to file books and dust shelves on her own. That was certainly not her idea of a good time.
"Lydia, back to work," said a sharp voice. Lydia turned from the window to see her father filing books away on the used shelf. Her father was a tall, brusque man who favored her in looks. They shared the same brown hair, sharp features, and pale lips that tended to rest in a frown. He was much taller in height, reaching well over six feet while Lydia's height was categorized as average. Lydia had inherited her father's lanky limbs as well. One would not say she was pretty nor her father handsome. They were simply to be called plain.
Lydia nodded her head in response, though her father's back was now turned and continued to file away misplaced books. Occasionally, she sneaked a glance back at the street, only to be caught by her father's sharp eye. Curtly reprimanded, she moved steadily through her work. Random customers came in from time to time. Any in need of help were sent directly to her, and her father rung up their purchases. It was a simple process, performed every day, much to Lydia's boredom. Most of her summer days were dull and she longed to return to Hogwarts. The only enjoyable part of her day was lunch.
At twelve noon, Lydia left the shop for Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions next door to meet her best friend, Elladora Edgecomb. Elle was in the same year as Lydia, and the two shared a dorm, both being of Ravenclaw House. Madam Malkin was Elle's aunt on her mother's side, and decided to take up work there when she found Lydia would be working in Diagon Alley. It was an easy way for them to see each other, as they lived quite far a distance apart- Lydia above the bookshop and Elle somewhere in the Welsh countryside.
Lydia was greeted warmly by Madam Malkin, who went to the back of the shop to retrieve Elle. Elle had always caught people's eyes with her charming looks. Her long reddish-blond hair flowed down her back, framing stately features, and her large hazel eyes. She was the finest example of pureblood breeding, though not from the wealthiest of families, she was certainly well off. She came out in a stylish get-up of elegant blue robes, no doubt supplied by her aunt, and carrying a fancy handbag. She did look quite good, though made Lydia feel a bit uncomfortable. Lydia's plain blouse and skirt had nothing on Elle's outfit.
"Aunt May, I'm heading out to lunch," Elle called to the back of the store. A muffled reply was heard, but ignored as Elle waved her hand in disregard. She turned back and smiled at Lydia. "To the Leaky Cauldron, then?"
"Sure, it's up to you," Lydia said.
"Good, I've been dying for a butterbeer, and my horoscope in Witch Weekly said that I should pursue my wants for greater satisfaction in life," said Elle. Lydia shook her head softly at the remark. Elle had been obsessed with astrology since her first year, and was an avid believer in horoscopes and the like. Unfortunately, she sometimes depended on the horoscopes in Witch Weekly too much, like that time in fourth year when she bet all her galleons on the Hufflepuff- Gryffindor game because her horoscope said:
'Take a risk this week by putting something important on the line. You will receive great success and fortune from your actions. Your lucky color is yellow, lucky numbers are 3, 6, and 18.'
Gryffindor ended up winning, and she ended up broke, all her galleons in Sirius Black's pocket. She didn't go on any Hogsmeade trips for the rest of the year.
As the two walked along, Elle chatted merrily in her ear. Other than astrology, talking was easily the favorite of her activities. Lydia often wondered how the two ever became friends-herself so quiet and Elle so loud, but it worked. While Elle was a fervent speaker, Lydia was a fervent listener and listened gladly to all Elle's issues. Having none really of her own, she found Elle's petty problems quite interesting and sometimes comical. They were an odd pair who where somehow at sorts.
"…so Sirius Black came into the shop this morning with James Potter- did you know he's staying with him?" Elle gossiped pleasantly.
"Wait, who?"
"Sirius Black is living with James Potter! He ran away! You didn't know that?" she asked in disbelief. Apparently word was quite big that Sirius Black had left home.
"No," Lydia replied.
"Oh, really, Lydie! You need to get out more! Your father's been keeping you locked up in the dustbin too long! Don't you ever get anytime off? You work all day!" Elle stated in a very theatrical way, complete with the hand gestures she used when she felt especially passionate about something.
"August is coming up fast, and I need to help father get the store stocked before the mad school rush arrives. He needs me there," she supplied as an excuse. Elle rolled her eyes at this.
"Please, he doesn't need you there more than he needs me in there! You aren't even getting paid for all your busy work either! If I were you, I would quit!"
"He's my father. I can't just quit," Lydia said. Elle sighed in annoyance.
"That's just the problem! You can quit, but you won't! You let him push you around too much and you shouldn't take that! Just because he's your father, doesn't mean he controls your life!"
"Actually, Elle, it does. He has custody over me." She said logically. Elle threw her hands up in the air, and shaped them like a claw, before throwing them back down.
"Custody! That's no excuse! I know! Run away, and come work with me at Aunt May's shop! It'll be so much fun- we could share a room, maybe we could rent a flat! Oh, this is so exciting!" Elle exclaimed.
"You are out of your mind…" Lydia said, shaking her head.
"Hey, Sirius Black did it!"
"Sirius Black is a moron."
"No he isn't!" Elle said defensively.
"That's just because you thinks he's cute."
"I can't help it if he is attractive!"
"I'm sure your children will be very attractive also." Elle scowled and hit Lydia's arm.
"Hey, was that a joke? It better have been or I'll…!" Lydia rubbed her arm as the two finally reached the Leaky Cauldron. As they headed inside, Elle started numbering off the reasons why the relationship between her and Sirius Black would never work. Lydia just smiled softly to herself and shook her head. Elle was one piece of work…
They were greeted by Tom, who knew them now as regulars and ushered over to a table in the corner. Elle ordered herself the butterbeer she had been advised to pursue in her very dramatic, glamorous way, much opposed to Lydia's quiet request for a plain cranberry juice. Elle continued to chat as Lydia lazily half-listened, looking around the room at the different occupants. The area was crowded, it being lunch time. Lydia found many people she did not recognize- a flirtatious witch charming a graying wizard, a cloaked figure by the bar smoking on a wooden pipe, and a secretive couple stealing a kiss every few moments were among the most notable. They were also some who she recognized- a group of Hufflepuffs talking animatedly, a red headed couple with their two red headed sons, and a Slytherin from her own year sitting at the next table over.
"…Now if James asked me out, I would most definitely say yes. He's on the Quidditch team." Elle said taking a sip from her drink and running a finger down the menu.
"James Potter? You know he likes Lily Evans."
"Lily Evans!" she snorted, "Please! He's a pureblood, and she's- well, she's (no offense, Lydie) a mudblood! It's probably just some silly infatuation. Nothing will ever come of it. Plus she hates him." Elle added as an afterthought. It was true; Lily Evans made no secret of her feelings for James.
"No offense taken," Lydia said, holding up her menu in front of her face. Elle sighed in what sounded like annoyance and Lydia looked at her over the paper, "What?"
"Look who's next to us…" Elle said in a hushed groan. Lydia turned her head slightly,
so as not to appear obvious. Beside them was the Slytherin Lydia had noticed earlier. He was easily recognizable because of his strong features, reading a large tome as he twisted food around his plate with his fork. His lank, black hair covered most of his face except his prominent nose that hooked out of the natural curtain. Lydia had definitely seen him around the school and knew he was not well liked. How could she not know him? Severus Snape was the best student in the year.
"So?"
"Uhg- I hate him! He's such a prat!" she whispered vehemently. Lydia looked from her to him and back again skeptically.
"Has he ever even said anything to you?" she asked.
"No, but- he's really awful to James." Elle said. Lydia gave her a hopeless look and put the menu back in front of her face, "No, really! Just look at him! Do you think he even washes his hair? And look at his robes! Why, Aunt May would faint of disgust just to see them!"
"Elle, he probably hears you." Lydia said, pretending to read the prices of meals. Really she was trying to peak a glance at the boy. She was a bit worried over Elle's big mouth for she had heard quite a bit about the true extent of his knowledge.
"No, he doesn't!" she hissed, trying to be quiet but actually being rather loud. Snape was now staring blatantly at the two girls, an unpleasant look donning his features. Elle smiled nervously at him and gave an awkward wave, while Lydia turned back to the menu, utterly embarrassed.
Abruptly, the boy stood up, jerking his chair backwards, and threw a few stray coins on the wooden table as payment. He sent the girls one last penetrating look before stalking out of the restaurant, black robes billowing behind him. Lydia looked straight to the ground, berating herself for the upset they had probably caused him. Of course, she was almost sure his talent in the Dark Arts would bring them into their own payment. And though the floor had suddenly become very interesting, Lydia's gaze was lifted up by the sound of giggling.
Across the table, Elle hunched over, grasping her stomach with one hand and trying to contain the laughter amounting from her lips with the other. Her blond hair swung as she shivered in amusement.
"It's not funny," Lydia said. Elle looked up at her and with a long sigh shortened her laughter.
"Oh, lighten up Lydie!" Elle scolded playfully with a wave of her hand.
"He was angry,"
"He's just oversensitive, the wanker," Elle said, but as her eyes widened and she lifted her hands, Lydia sensed her falling into one of her famous ramblings, "Did you see the look on his face, though?! I'll just have to tell James about this! He'll get a real kick out of it! I hope he comes back into the store again soon, but he just came in yesterday. I want to see him before school starts, though. Do you think I would sound to desperate if I owled him? Would he actually come to see me? I would think so…" As she paused to take a breath, Lydia jumped in as she had learned to after so much time spent with Elle.
"I think I'm going back to the store now," she said, placing two sickles on the worn wood.
"I know he-" Elle stopped and looked up at Lydia, "What? Are you leaving?"
"Yes."
"But, we're having lunch," she said. Lydia shrugged.
"I'm really not that hungry."
"But we always have lunch together, you can't just go."
"I don't feel like lunch today… It's not the end of the world, Elle." Lydia said, pushing in her chair. Elle looked at her with emotion swimming in her eyes- hurt, confusion, and anger.
"Fine, just go."
"I'll see you later though."
"Just go," she said firmly.
"Good-bye…" Elle did not reply, but turned back to her butterbeer and looking anywhere but Lydia. Lydia watched her for a moment before turning and walking slowly to the door.
As she stepped out into the fresh air of Diagon Alley, she frowned to herself. She needed some time alone, without the constant chatter, or being smoldered by dusty tomes. A nice walk would do her well. She had about fifteen minutes before she had to return to the shop and that seemed plenty enough time.
Lydia entered the shop twenty minutes later, feeling much relieved. The walk had given her sometime to think freely without being clouded by the voices of her most recent company. She had yet to receive her O.W.L. results, and was busy mulling over it. She needed to make it into the top classes. How else would she be able to get out of this musty bookshop?
"You're late," Her father came out from behind a bookshelf holding a piece of parchment in his right hand.
"I know," Lydia replied, "What is that?" she gestured to the paper.
"The book list,"
"Mine?"
"No, the one Dumbledore sends ahead," he said, handing her the parchment. She skimmed it quickly picking out any new list members.
"What are these 'Standard Book of Spells'? There's one for each year." Her father snorted, in what sounded like disgust.
"They're absolute rubbish. The whole layout of them is ridiculously amateur."
"What happened to the other books they used?" she questioned.
"I don't know, but I bet the ministry had something to do with it. I've heard rumors that some people thought the old books gave to much information about the Dark Arts, and in times like these, people are fussy about that sort of thing." He explained. She nodded and moved into the back room, looking through their stock.
"We'll need to order some of them then. We don't have enough here. The other books we are fine with. I'll send an owl to Obscurus Books. How many do you think we'll need?" She shouted from the back room.
"How many do we have?"
"Fifty or so,"
"Three hundred, then," Lydia snatched a piece of parchment off the shelf, and scribbled a quick note to the publishers ordering the needed books. She folded it neatly, and dropped some blue wax, sealing it with an emblem of two crossing quills. Stepping back out into the shop, she whistled softly. A barn owl with only one eye swiftly came to rest on her shoulder.
"Take this Obscurus Books, Odin," she told the bird, tying the letter to its foot. The owl cooed sharply and took off through the window as Lydia opened it. She watched as the bird flew off above the street, praying that he had a safe trip. The publisher was not far away, only down the Alley, but Odin was getting older and with only one good eye, was having trouble flying. Odin was not hers, but her father's, and the bird dated back before she was even born.
Lydia sighed as the bird moved out of her sight, and turned back to the shelf of books she had been working on before lunch. Once again she found herself painted in dust, coughing lightly at every breeze that drove it into her lungs. She was glad when a few customers came into the shop, asking for help, and taking her away from her regular duties. Around three o'clock, as she finished up her work on the shelf, Odin came back with a response.
The bird flew into the shop through the open window, and landed on the front desk in front of her father, who gently took the parchment off Odin's foot. He broke the green seal, and putting on his spectacles, read through the note.
"Lydia," he said, looking up, "I have to go down the street to pick up the new order. Watch the shop."
"Alright," she replied. He would only be gone an hour at most. She would have no problem looking over the shop as she doubted many people would come in. Tuesdays were always slow. Her father nodded, pocketed his wand, and went out the door, walking briskly down the street.
As she saw he was gone, Lydia moved to the desk, running her index finger along the wood, collecting dust. She frowned at her dirty finger when she lifted it up. Her father was always such a mess. She took the stacks of books and parchments off the desk one by one, laying them on the ground, before running upstairs to find a rag. She wiped down the desk carefully, leaving the mahogany with shine when she finished and began putting away the old occupants of the desk neatly. As the pile on the ground deteriorated to half its original size, the bells on the door jingled. Lydia, kneeling on the ground behind the desk, looked over the wood expecting to see her father, but found herself far from correct.
"Is Mr. Lachlan available?" Severus Snape asked in a superior tone, making Lydia frown. She was sure that he had not been happy about their last encounter, if you could call it that. He did not appear too pleased to see her, judging by the scowl on his face. Lydia stood up, brushing any mess from her black skirt and put on her best 'professional' face.
"No, he is not. Do you need help finding something?" she said curtly, trying her best act in the way her father did- brisk, short, but pleasant.
"I was given directions only to speak to him for the materials I am in need of," he drawled, turning his nose up at her. Lydia tried best to ignore it. No matter how unpleasant he was going to act, he was a customer all the same and she had to rise above it.
"I'm sure I could supply you with whatever you are searching for," Lydia said, giving him a forced smile.
"I highly doubt that," his voice dripping with arrogance. She frowned again.
"Excuse me, but I assure you that I would be just as much help as Mr. Lachlan," she snapped. She knew just as much about the bookstore as her father, if not more! Why should she take this kind of behavior from him?
"Lydia! Take these boxes to the back room." A sharp voice came from the doorway. Lydia looked past the other teenager to see her father, glaring at her like she had done something wrong. She looked back at Snape, before nodding and walking over slowly, taking the heavy boxes from her father and carrying them to the back room.
She shut the door behind her, with just a crack left open. Slowly, she opened the boxes and began to categorize books together while trying to make out bits of the conversation outside.
"I apologize for the inconveniences, Severus. There is no excuse for my employee's behavior." She heard her father say in his deep, crisp voice.
Employee?! Was that all she was, now?
"It's perfectly understandable," Snape said.
Perfectly understandable? It was him who came in acting like he owned the place!
"Now, what can I do for you, Severus?"
"I have a list of books supplied by Mr. Jiggers that I am in need of."
Lydia peered out of the crack, catching a glimpse of the young man handing her father a piece of parchment, covered in red ink. Her father took it, and read it over, nodding, and walked to the farthest end of the store to the Dark Arts section, Snape trailing after. Mr. Lachlan waved his wand in a serious of complicated twists and muttered something unrecognizable before stepping between the two shelves, disappearing into the darkness, leaving Snape standing idly. He came out minutes later, carrying a stack of books, and brought them over to the desk.
"I don't carry the last book. That's something you'd have to go to Knockturn Alley for. I'm sure Borgin has it, along with the likes." Mr. Lachlan said, ringing up the purchases.
"I'll check there." Snape had moved in front of the desk.
"The school list just came into day, if you want to pick up some of your books. You a sixth year now, is it?" Her father asked gruffly. Snape nodded.
"Yes, but I will pick up my books later."
"Of course," The older man stroked his mustache and wrote something down, "That all comes to sixteen galleons." Snape reached onto his black robes, pulling out the needed amount and handed them to the other man. He took the brown bag that now held his purchase.
"Thank you, Mr. Lachlan."
"Your always welcome, Severus… and tell Mr. Jiggers I said hello," Lydia turned away, and back to the work. She listened close for her father, who sounded like he was still at the front desk.
Eventually, all the boxes were unpacked and she moved out into the store, putting them out quietly, trying not to draw attention. She feared a lecture about her "behavior" towards that awful git. Not paying close enough attention to where she was going, she stubbed her toe on a table and yelped, causing her father to look up from the desk, and walk through the shelves to where she was.
"I forgot about you." He said with an unpleasant look. She set the books she was holding down on the table, and looked up at him.
"I apologize," she said softly.
"You should be!" he hissed, "Severus Snape is one of my best customers and I don't need you ruining it! Not only does he make the most expensive purchases, he works at Slug and Jiggers! I lose him, I lose Mr. Jiggers! I can't afford that right now, not in times like these!"
"I didn't mean-"
"I don't want excuses!" he cut her off, "You do as you're told. You treat the customers with respect. You treat me with respect. I don't know what's come over you recently. Talking back, and running off, coming in late! I won't tolerate it! Not in my shop!"
Lydia looked down to the floor.
"I understand sir."
"You'd better, or you can forget about any more lunch breaks. That trollop you keep hanging around isn't doing you any good! I don't want you to see her anymore."
"But, father, she's a pur-"
"And you are not!" he hissed, "Do not try to hind behind her! It will not save you!"
She nodded slowly, "You are right, I apologize,"
"Don't let it happen again!" he said, then turned on his heal and back to his own work. Lydia finished putting the books away in silence, trying her best not to care. Soon, the sun set, and the darkness came to cloak the people of Diagon Alley, and Lydia was to be found upstairs on her bed, going through an old book, taking notes by the candle light. She did it every night, staying up late into the wee hours of the morning, studying history to its earliest date. She would get of here if it was the last thing she would do! Mysteries were just waiting out there, ready to be solved.
So, that's the first chapter… tell me what you think. REVIEW! Please!