Touring

Touring with a boy choir is tough. We spent three to four days in every destination. The days took forever. The rules were strict and the hours long.

We stayed with Rotary couples most of the time and grouped in two's and three's. Most of the boy's voices hadn't broken yet. They could sing almost anything I played, from today's chart topping music to the most sacred arias.

Still the girl, me, wasn't exactly part of the group. The intrusion into their private space wasn't welcome especially by the boy's my age who sang tenor or bass. The fights between us could even put world war two to shame. It was always about the same thing, me finishing all the hot water.

It was a glorious day, cold but beautiful. Some town along the way to our finale in London. Helios and Lester, my friends complained yet again how I finished the hot water by washing my hair. That was the final straw. Having handled their complaints for most of the tour.

"Fine," I said grabbing my handbag and walked through the front door.

I was going to the hairdresser. All I told the stylist is that my hair was to be short. My eyes were closed. I hadn't given my hair anything more than a trim since my mom died. I could feel the load on my back lessen. Every now and again, I wanted to scream stop.

"You can open your eyes now," said the stylist the laugh evident in the voice

Slowly I opened my eyes. Was the person looking back in the mirror me? Raising a finger, feeling the locks that had now become alive again, unusual, how could hair have life?

The cut she had chosen was new and fresh. Two thick strands on either side had been left alone. The rest reached the middle of my neck. The elderly couple's daughter came to find. We ran out of the warmth of the hairdressers to the warmth of a house. A house that today was the last day it would be a home for me.

Armed with pack lunches and choir uniforms. The world was waiting for us to make music. Maybe not the world was waiting for us but the people at Markel were.

I would have gladly paid all the gold in the world to see their faces again.

"You actually cut your hair," said little Marcus in awe. I told them the day before that for as long as I lived my hair would stay long.

The Director was less than pleased. Asking me how he was going to explain this to Stravanni, Luca and Rhonda. The one thing he promised them was that I wouldn't go wild. I didn't think a haircut qualified as wild.

The Director quickly called for some order. I sat down at the piano. Resisting the urge to rip off the ruffles on my uniform. The sound of angel voices warmed up.

The trick when playing for a choir is not to take the spotlight. The spotlight is on the boys and their voices. On the outside, they were well-behaved boys. Every mother wanted their son to be like them. If anyone truthfully asked me, I'd tell them to think of a better plan.

Slowly people started filling the hall. We mingled among the people. Smiles on our faces as if we could think of nothing better. Never had I noticed how my hair kept me warm.

At last, it was time to put on a performance. We started with some soothing arias, then a couple of Disney songs, an Adele and a bunch of Andrew Lloyd Weber. Even I had to admit that they were good, if not good then brilliant. They knew each other so well. Who's turn it was to shine and who should back off.

Today they surprised me in a good way. Lester pulled me off the piano bench and handed me a mike. They wanted to do a cappela with me. I recognised the beat of one my own songs.

Do you want to remember?

Remember summertime

The words and the stories of every time

Do you remember the summers we spent?

Do you remember the stories of time?

And say that you remember me most

I was your best friend

Our futures we shared and

A story, a story older than time

Than the seas past the horizon

And the beauty we share

Do you remember me?

And I ask yet again

For your grace and your time

The blessings we shared together as one

So deities, graces and heaven above

We shall willingly find our way

They let me shine for once. Then I sat back on the comfortable piano stool and opened the cords to 'The Sound of Music'

" Thank you," I said as we drove out of the town

"And," prompted Marcus

"What else do you want?"

"A solid apology," started Noel

"And that you will make coffee for the rest of the trip," ended Jacque

"Who told you about the coffee," I demanded. Coffee was the only thing I didn't mess up in the kitchen. Not to boast but it was something that I was good at making.

"We drank your coffee from the pink flask. So obviously it was yours besides we were freezing," he defended.

Rolling my eyes in disbelief. They were the ones who drank the wonderful substance that helped me be on the move. That gave me the strength to face each day. So I nodded a yes. Put my headphones on and closed my eyes to heavy metal.

No sooner was I awoken by a sharp blast of a whistle.

"Sir Andrew Lloyd Weber has requested us to play for him at his home," started the Director

"When?" questioned Marcus always in need of an answer

"Two weeks and Isabell your singing Christine," he added

"As in the Phantom Christine," I asked

"Yes, which other Christine do you know," he answered

That bus drive spent on voice warm ups and singing. Sir Weber wanted a whole array of songs from his musicals. My voice tested to its limits and no throat lozenges to soothe it. The Director got the bus driver to pull over and took out a keyboard with rechargeable batteries. It was very hard to play on the bus. But the Director was insistent.

Practice and even more practice all the way to our final stop London. At a stop to get some petrol and food, I bought about ten packets of Strepsils.

I never really enjoy singing Christine she's just so desperate. Desperate and I did not go together. However, mostly everywhere we went they talked about my mom. Her old colleagues and friends seemed to be spread all over. My mom always described as a perfect musician. A maestro with anything that made a sound before she moved to France with me.

Apparently, she worked as a lecturer in France. Therefore, I'm guessing her French was a lot better than mine. Why did everyone know so much about my own mother? Was she so great that people worshiped the ground she walked on?

So many questions were there to waiting for an answer. Well the trip did not give many answers other than one should never give guys gossip. It travels faster and tends to be more accurate.

Finally, it was the end of the tour. We drove the familiar road back to Hope. It was late in the night and I struggled to keep my eyes open. The speed of the car was tempting me to sleep. All I really wanted was my bed.

I shut my eyes and let sleep take over. I did have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow. I felt the driver slam the breaks with force. We toppled over each other. Swearing as we got up. I looked out of the window, the sight was horrifying.

The whole of Hope burnt down to the ground. In my heart, I knew there were no survivors the fire fighters confirmed it later. My whole family- dead. Above the burning building, the green stars of the Dark Mark glittered and winked in mock. My hand moved to the pocket. On the last day at home, I had forgotten to hand in my wand. No one bothered to ask so I kept it with me.

Ministry of Magic officials stood around blending in with the fire fighters who were trying to contain the fire. I ran wanting to die too. Something no someone held me back.

"Get the kid away from here," they yelled

They dragged her away from the scene. Hoping it hadn't tainted. There was no need for that. She was already tainted. The hatred had already started bubbling. Then all of a sudden, it stopped she felt cold. Then numb like a husk the betrayal was too much for her emotional capacity.

Emptiness welled up inside. The boys who had become her brothers, her friends stayed with her. Making sure, she didn't do anything stupid. They whispered reassuring words trying to make her feel better.

The vicar of the church came up to me. I was going to stay with him tonight. A memorial service to be held the following morning. Then Hogwarts would be my home.

A/N: A very big thank you to The Amendable Snow Freak who reviewed. Sorry for taking so long to update. Can't wait for exams to be finished on the 22 November.