Hugo
Hugo Weasley's life changed forever when he was five years old, the day he first sat down at a piano and fitted his fingers to the keys.
Plenty of people couldn't remember the moments that changed their lives – they were too young or too distracted or the moment's importance didn't become clear until much later. But Hugo remembered.
Hugo remembered every piece and part of that day with perfect clarity. The smell of the runner carpet in his grandmother's hallway (dust and wood varnish), the feel of the plush giving way to wood under his cheek, the sound of Chrissy Michaelson adding an extra beat and a half to a few measures of Bach's Gavotte in D as she stumbled through a difficult run. He remembered daring to peek around the corner, remembered his Grandma Granger asking Chrissy if he could watch, remembered being captivated by the sight of her curved fingers flying across the black and ivory keys.
And he remembered the feeling of his heart in his throat when he'd been the last one left in the parlor, Chrissy going to the porch to wait for her mum, Gram going to the kitchen to make lunch. He hadn't been able to believe he'd been left alone with the instrument – it seemed a tremendous oversight – but he'd immediately taken advantage.
He remembered sliding across the smooth wooden bench, the edge digging into the back of his knees, feeling the weight of his feet at the end of his legs as they swung a good six inches above the ground. He could still hear the sound of his exhale in the still room as he brought his hands up and rested his small fingers on the cool keys, wondering if he could recreate the music he'd watched Chrissy make.
He could, it turned out.
It took him two tries, his first timid depression of the keys not heavy enough to win a sound. But his second try? He played exactly what Chrissy had played, extra beat and a half and all. He could still play Bach's Gavotte in D with his eyes closed (extra beat and a half and all), and though it was a simple children's etude, it remained his favorite piece because it had introduced him to a magic far more impressive than anything he'd seen any of his family members do with a wand.
From the time he was five years old, Hugo Weasley had been a pianist first and anything else, wizard included, second.
Grandma Granger had been his first teacher. Though she'd gone into dentistry, she'd also been a talented pianist herself, and after retiring, she had gone back to teaching music. On the day that Hugo's world became much more magical, she had entered the parlor, expecting to find Chrissy back at the piano, practicing the etude still giving her trouble while she waited for her ride. She'd been astounded to find Hugo, playing as if he'd been playing for years rather than moments. Her footsteps had startled him, and he'd snatched his fingers away from the instrument, silence jarring into the room as he bit his lip, terrified of being caught in wrongdoing and scolded. But Grandma Granger hadn't scolded.
"Hugo, was that you?"
A nod.
"Have you ever played before?"
A shake.
"Would you like to learn?"
A widening of the eyes, a gasp, an outburst of "Oh, yes! Could I really?"
He'd never looked back.
The piano became his life. While his cousins played pick-up Quidditch and Quadspot and Capture the Flag, Hugo played Tchaikovsky and Copland and Yiruma. While they spent hours running around the orchard and fields surrounding the Burrow, he spent hours at the piano his mother set up in a back room every time they visited (he'd insisted that she replicate the one they had at home, transporting it rather than the original because he was convinced all that magic and Shrinking and Enlarging couldn't be good for the strings. His mother said he was worrying over nothing, but Hugo knew he heard a difference). And while his family went to Quidditch finals and Hogsmeade visits and trips to Diagon Alley, Hugo went to concerts and recitals and competitions, with his parents and grandmother and new, more advanced teachers in tow.
Which wasn't to say that Hugo didn't enjoy flying around the meadow on a broomstick and spending his summers with his cousins and aunts and uncles. But his heart and soul belonged to the piano, and it was back to the piano he always drifted, and he was never without an audience. His cousins and aunts and uncles loved hearing him play almost as much as he loved to play for them, and they were all frequently in the audience at Hugo's various concerts and recitals and competitions.
By the time he was ten, he was well known in the Muggle musical world. He had won his fair share of competitions, been touted as a child prodigy, been filmed and gathered a following on YouTube. When he and his family walked down a Muggle street to or from some performance venue, it was much more likely that Hugo would be recognized than Harry Potter. He'd been nervous about that the first time it had happened, but his uncle had just laughed and called it "quite refreshing."
But Hugo was never in any of it for the recognition or the acclaim or the trophies littering his bedroom. He was just in it for the music. He just wanted to play. The idea of a world where he didn't have hours in his day to sit down at his piano and make the best magic he could imagine? Not a world he wanted to live in.
He composed his first piece when he was eight, just a short little song for Mother's Day that he thought his mum would like, and he couldn't figure out why he liked it less the more he played it until he realized that it didn't sound like his mum. Once he figured that out, composing came much easier to him.
He never consciously made the decision that he was going to write a piano piece for every member of his family, but by the time he was ten, it was something he knew as well as his own name. Some came easily to him – Rose's and Lily's and Lucy's – but others were more elusive – Victoire's and Uncle Percy's and Roxie's. But, he reasoned, he had time. He'd only just achieved double digits, after all.
The summer after he turned eleven, his admission letter to Hogwarts was brought to the Burrow by his Uncle Neville, along with Lily's and Lucy's, and all the girls could talk about was how excited they were to finally be going and how they couldn't wait to take the school by storm and how they'd be the best Potter-Weasley trio since James and Molly and Fred (who would be fourth years, so they were basically on their way out).
But Hugo couldn't join in. All he could do was stare at the parchment as a horrible realization hit him in the stomach. "I can't go," he said softly, his words cutting through the girls' chatter.
"What?" Lily asked, frowning like she knew she hadn't heard him right. He looked up.
"I can't go," he said, louder, and before they could ask the questions they clearly wanted to, he left the room, full of an anxious, nervous energy he couldn't shake. He had to find his parents, though he wasn't looking forward to that conversation, either.
It was even harder when his parents weren't alone. They were in the sitting room with his Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Neville. He interrupted them in the middle of some funny story – they were all laughing and happy, and that made him even more miserable.
It was Uncle Harry who saw him first. "Hey, Hugh," he said with a smile. "So have you and Lily and Lucy already figured out which Houses you'll be in and how to decorate your beds?" Hugo gave a tight smile at that but didn't respond.
"Mum, Dad," he said, barreling through before he could lose his nerve. "I've thought about it, and I've decided that I'm sorry, but I really don't think I can go to Hogwarts. I really don't think it's the best fit for me, so I'd like to do what I've been doing, just learning from Dad and private teachers. Thanks." And just like with Lily and Lucy, he left before anyone had the chance to voice any questions.
He went straight to the unofficial music room and shut the door and launched into some Beethoven because he needed pounding, angry music so that the swirly anxiety in his stomach didn't take over everything. He played the sonata with a bit more force than was probably required, but it helped give him something else to focus on.
He heard the door open, but whoever stepped inside didn't interrupt the music, so he kept playing. "I can't not play for ten months," he finally said without looking up from the keys.
"You think your mother and I would ever ask you to?" A glance over his shoulder revealed his father standing in the doorway. Hugo turned back to the keys.
"Hogwarts doesn't offer music classes. There aren't any piano professors or practice rooms. How am I supposed to play?"
"Have I told you the story about Prince Billy, Princess Jean, and General Melville's Secret Tunnel to the Mysterious Disappearing Room?" his dad asked, coming over and sitting beside the piano. Hugo let his hands slide off the keys, cutting the song short.
"Dad, I'm eleven," he said. "You don't have to use Prince Billy to tell me things anymore."
His dad smiled. "Old habits," he said. "How about the time Prince Hugo met Consuela Suñez? Have I told you that one?"
Hugo gave his dad a look. "Trust me, Dad, if I'd ever met one of the greatest wizarding pianists alive, I'd remember it. But what does the Room of Requirement have to do with Conseula Suñez? And what does any of it have to do with playing at Hogwarts?" His dad's eye twinkled.
"Well, when your Uncle Neville was at school, he became the reigning expert on the Room of Requirement, and so, when it became clear to your mother and I that we would have to find a way for your music to continue at Hogwarts if we wanted you to be educated there, we sent some owls. Your Uncle Neville's done some work with the Room, and Mum and I have talked at length with Miss Suñez, and starting in September, the Room will, once a week, open a passage between Hogwarts and the Wizarding Academy for the Dramatic Arts so that Miss Suñez can come teach you. The rest of the time, the Room will be available to you as a practice room for you to play away in to your heart's content, as long as it doesn't interfere with your schoolwork."
Hugo's heart was in his throat. He didn't dare believe what his dad was saying, not right away. "Really, Dad?" he asked, because he had to be sure this wasn't some giant joke. "Really?"
His dad laughed. "Really. And we have an appointment tomorrow to meet with Miss Suñez, who is looking forward to hearing you play. So. Will you go to Hogwarts now?"
Hugo had launched himself into his father's arms before he had finished asking the question. "Yes, yes, yes!" And he was up and running back to the sitting room to launch himself into his mother's arms and hug her just as enthusiastically. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he shouted.
"I take it your dad told you?" his mom asked with a smile. Hugo beamed up at her.
"You're the best mum ever. And you're the best uncle ever," he said to Neville, still sitting a ways away. Uncle Neville laughed, while Uncle Harry looked indignant.
"Anything for you, Hugh," Uncle Neville said. "Now, do you suppose I could trouble you to play for me before I go?"
Hugo was happy to oblige.
I never thought I'd write a piece of Harry Potter fanfiction with the phrase "gathered a following on YouTube" in it, but here we are. See, I've long been fascinated with the question of whether or not all Muggleborns who come to Hogwarts choose to stay in the Wizarding World, or if there are some who get their schooling, graduate, and prefer to return to a Muggle, magicless life. Therefore, I really wanted to look at putting one of my next gen characters in a position to be more in the Muggle world than the magical one. I'll explore this more in depth with Hugo's shoot off, looking at what he does when he's done with Hogwarts, but that's a much later story.
This Hugo is clearly not the same Hugo from We Stand and Face the Storm, but there are distinct similarities. Both are fairly quiet and unassuming. Both are close with Rose. Both are Ravenclaws. But this Hugo clearly is more comfortable in the spotlight. And over the course of the last year or so, he has gone from being the cousin I knew the least about to being the cousin I know really the most about. I expected a lot more information to come out in this moment - his sexuality, his career aspirations, his relationship with Lily and Lucy - but this is where the moment took me, so the rest of that will have to wait.