Check first chapter for summary, disclaimer, and other warnings.
Chapter 7 – Ties
posted August
8th, 2006
Dear Diary,
Once again, one year passed, filled with magic courses and discoveries!
Guess what? I have a boyfriend! Dad doesn't know, of course. Besides, Charlie and I haven't been farther than holding hands and defending each other's honour against comments. You wouldn't imagine the things my dorm mates invent to try to break us up. The thing is, Charlie's job in that regard seems harder than mine, especially against the Slytherins. And I got that speech once again, about what I thought was a colour.
Imagine my surprise when Charlie sat me down and explained about the so-called "pure" bloodlines. To see that I belonged to a family that produced only Slytherin and dark-aligned wizards and witches! I think I even recognized my mum's aggressors in some centuries-old portraits. I must have cried for a whole hour afterwards, Charlie patiently holding me up.
Now, when one of the Snakes even mention the "open hour on renegade Blacks", I understand better. I started to cry, something which pleased them immensely. But I quickly summoned some courage (being a Gryffindor is good for this: it gives the proper mindset for bravery) and returned witty retorts for each insult on "blood-traitors" – I now know that they target my mother. And a cousin of hers, who's in Azkaban right now. Weird, that.
But I don't have to think about those slimy excuses for human beings – much less students. It's summer, now!
To pick up where I last left: last summer, I convinced dad to take John and I to a classical concert. I didn't try very hard: there was a discovery session at the local opera and prices were very low. I was convinced that, John liking that kind of music, he'd like a concert.
Boy, was I surprised!
Not only did he like it (he almost drooled, the poor boy) but I did, too!
Well, I still think that it doesn't hold a candle to the Weird Sisters and the like, but, with the acoustics the theatre provided, things were much different than with a tiny radio set.
Now, one year later, he's really different (while staying the same: he's still blind and still can't use his legs) but he speaks, now (although it's very rare). And his voice... it's... I don't know how to qualify it other than "melodious."
And he's not deaf at all. I'm sure he recognizes me by ear, the way he smiles in my general direction when I come. He even smiles and makes jokes. He once told me that he recognizes me arriving because I tripped three blocks from there. I was stunned (I did trip three blocks away) but his smile told me that it was a joke and we laughed. We laughed!
However, as soon as I leave (as a proper soon-to-be 15 years old, I have other things to do, like hanging out at the local mall, or owling my friends – and, yes, Dad got me an owl as an advanced birthday present) the other kids return to their previous selves. I once found him lying a couple feet from his upturned wheelchair. He didn't complain – he never does – but I want to find a way for him to avoid this.
He already has too many scars.
I have an idea to help him, but I'll have to work on dad. I'm sure that, if John was in the orphanage doctor's family like me, he would have fewer problems. Besides, I already see him as a little brother.
I'll tell you later.
To be continued in next chapter: Strings...
