A/N: Hello, everyone! Sorry for not posting yesterday. I didn't have this chapter finished and there was a lot that I still wanted to add. I hope you like it. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.
Chapter Seventeen - Holly's Story
I found a place so safe, not a single tear
The first time in my life and now it's so clear
Feel calm, I belong, I'm so happy here
It's so strong and now I let myself be sincere*
When Dad gets home, I'm already in my bed, but still awake with Edgar sleeping on the small of my back. I hear him turn on the corridor light and open a gap on my door to check on me. I close my eyes, pretending to be deeply asleep. He doesn't say anything. He shuts the door and I hear his steps fading as he enters his bedroom. I sigh, but find myself biting my bottom lip shortly after, chuckling softly at the light of recent events. I hug my pillow tightly, smelling Talbott's scent in my hair, and doze off almost immediately.
I dream of nothing. The darkness behind my eyelids engulfs me in a deep, safe and sweet sleep, resting my mind, body and soul. When I open my eyes again, there's a gentle light slithering through the curtains, launching long stripes along the floor. I stretch in bed, yawning while slowly getting up. The first thing I do is to look at myself in the mirror next to my wardrobe. The reflection shows a fifteen year old blonde in her flannel jammies, but a strange spark in her eyes says something more. Something secretive. Something that only she knows. She winks at me as she lifts her hands to tie her messy hair in a loose bun.
The morning light in the kitchen seems a little different. Perhaps it's because, somehow, I also feel different. I can still feel the tingles of Talbott's hands over my skin and I feel shivers with the thought of his fangs on my neck. I reach out unconsciously, running my fingertips over the place where he bit me. There's not a hint of a mark, but the memory of it lingers fresh in my skin.
I grab a bowl of cereal and watch, standing by the window, the day beginning around the neighbourhood. The dark-haired woman that always runs with her German Shepherd is just turning the corner, dressed in a matching black sweat suit. An old man in a suit is carrying a big box to the post-office, accompanied by a young girl with blonde pigtails. I smile softly, thinking of my grandfather.
The sound of dragging feet warns me that Dad is coming to the kitchen, so I try my best to portray an innocent smile, but as soon as I see his tired gaze, with purplish bags under his eyes, I can't help but frown. He fills the kettle with water, in an obvious mechanical motion, and puts it on the stove. I watch him head to the cabinet to grab a bag of English Breakfast and put it in an empty cup. He crashes on a chair and proceeds to massage his temples.
I lift my brows. "So," I say. "What were you up to all night?"
He groans something unintelligible and then adds: "Why are you up so early?"
I check the kitchen clock. "It's nine a.m. I slept early," I lie. "Why are you up so early? You're obviously tired."
"I couldn't sleep anymore. I had a headache."
I smirk impishly. "It's called a hangover," I tease. "Here."
I fill a cup with water and add a tablet of effervescent fruit salt inside. He looks at me with a forlorn expression and drinks the whole thing in a single gulp. I chuckle, pouring the hot water into his cup. I make some tea for myself and sit on the chair in front of him.
"Thank you, darling," he says, softly.
"Drink your tea and try to get some more sleep," I tell him. "We have the Christmas dinner at Lockhart Gardens tonight."
"Ugh, I forgot about that," he moans. "Did you tell Talbott that he's going with us?"
I choke on my tea. "He is?"
He nods. "He's your boyfriend, isn't he? Anyway, I thought it wouldn't make sense for him and Phil to spend Christmas alone, so I sort of planned everything with Phil."
I frown. "Are you and Phil dating?"
He chuckles. "Can't a man have a friend without anything else implied?"
I shrug. "I don't know. You guys do everything together. That guy from the décor store wasn't planning on being your friend without anything else implied."
"You and Rowan do everything together too," he arguments. "Does that make you a couple?"
I shake my head. Dad takes a sip of his tea before continuing.
"Exactly. Phil is a great friend. It's nice to have someone like him around. Someone normal, for a change. And he's extremely enthusiastic about everything magic related. It's refreshing, actually."
"Maybe you should date a Muggle girl, then."
He frowns, tilting his head to look at me. "What?"
I shrug. "Mum's been gone for two years, Dad. We overcame the whole Skeeter issue. Maybe it's about time for you to… put yourself in the market again."
He seems shocked by my words. For a moment, he doesn't say anything. He simply stares at the swirling liquid inside his cup and plays with the tea bag, until his eyes move to the window. Inside his irises, I can see his struggles. What Rita Skeeter did… it destroyed our family. Mum was my father's first love, so it's understandable that he should have trouble accepting and trusting someone else into his heart.
"Athena, I… I don't know," he says, sadly.
"Just think about it, Dad. Don't waste the opportunity to be happy. Mum would've wanted for you to move on."
"Of that I'm not so sure. Your mother was frigging jealous. Part of the reason why… well, things ended up the way they did."
I caress his cheek. "Mum was depressed, Dad. She didn't… do it just because she was upset about what Skeeter did. She did it because she was sick. Unfortunately, she's not here anymore, but… it doesn't mean that you can't fall in love again."
He shrugs. "Yeah, perhaps."
"Try to get some more sleep," I say, affectionately.
He sighs tiredly. I stay with him until he finishes his tea and watch him return to his bedroom, dragging his feet along the corridor.
I head to the bathroom to take a long shower, erasing traces from the night before from my body. As I run my soapy fingers along my skin, I smile softly, thinking of how Talbott's touch makes me feel secure and special. This weren't like this when I was with Barnaby. Is this what loving someone feels like? Feeling adored and safe and important and ablaze? I rest my palm over my chest, loving how my heart races suddenly when I think of Talbott. I close my eyes under the running water, smitten with the idea of loving him for years and years to come.
When I get out of the shower, I'm feeling light and blissful. I put on a pair of jeans, my black booties and a wool sweater and grab the keys. From the hallway, I can hear my father snoring. I let out a soft chuckle before going out of some last minute Christmas shopping.
It's around six o'clock when Talbott and Phil show up. I'm still in my bedroom, putting on my small golden hoop earrings, but I can hear Dad talking to them in the living room. I spray on some perfume and run my fingers through the waves of my hair before joining them. I lose my breath when I see Tal, handsome in his ivory sweater and black jeans, holding a yule log cake, decorated with many meringue mushrooms. Phil, standing next to him, looks comfortable but chic in his white shirt and dark blue vest. When Talbott sees me enter the living room, I notice his cheeks get a little red.
I'm wearing a dark teal flowy dress that Grandma made for me. It arrived shortly after I returned from shopping, carried by a white owl. The fabric is warm but soft and falls beautifully a little above my knees. I paired it with some black stockings and the aubergine coloured booties that I bought earlier. I painted my nails black, a contrast against my pale skin.
"Athena, dear," Phil says. "You are absolutely lovely."
I smile. "Look who's talking! You're looking very handsome, Phil."
He chuckles, blushing a little. "Oh, thank you, my dear."
Talbott looks at me sideways and when our eyes meet, our cheeks get burning red. I bite my bottom lip bashfully and he shifts his weight from one feet to the other, looking a little timid.
Dad looks at us with a frown. "Why are you two acting so weird?" he asks, lifting a brow.
"We're not acting weird," I say, hasty.
"Uh-huh," he says, suspicious. "I think it's time for us to go. I want to get there before Anise does. God knows we'll need a drink to endure her foolish jokes."
"Does that mean that I'll get to drink some wine too?" I ask.
"You'll drink the iced tea," he says. "You're a teen. You have far more patience than I do. Let's go."
Talbott snickers, whispering at me. "Of that I'm not so sure."
I punch his arm gently. We head to the fireplace in Dad's office. He grabs a handful of Floo Powder and explains the whole process to Phil. We watch him go first, for a demonstration, promising that we will help Phil if necessary.
"Oh, boy," Phil says. "This is so exciting!"
"Remember to close your eyes, so you don't get dizzy," I advise.
"And don't breathe for the first five seconds," Talbott says.
"I think I got it," he says, grabbing some powder and entering the fireplace. "What's the address again?"
I smile. "Lockhart Gardens. Say it loud and clearly."
He nods. "Very well," he says, tossing the powder to his feet. "Lockhart Gardens!"
A flash of green engulfs him and when it dissipates, he's gone. Beside me, Talbott flashes me an embarrassed gaze.
"What?" I ask.
He shrugs, staring at the floor. "Nothing," he says. "It's just… I'm a little shy."
I open a smile. "Why?"
He presses his lips together before looking at me, his cheeks flushed. "Because you sort of saw me naked yesterday…"
I chuckle, amused. "And you saw me naked too."
He bites his bottom lip, finally drawing nearer, wrapping his arms around my waist. I feel my heart pound heavier inside my chest. My eyes meet his garnet irises and I rest a hand over his bronzy cheek. I caress his jaw and chin, descending my hand to run my fingertips over his chest.
"Thank you, Bubo," he says, softly.
I frown. "For what?"
He shrugs again. "For being so sweet," he says. "And perfect."
I laugh through my nose, bashful. "I'm far from being perfect, Tal."
"You're closer than anyone else," he says. "I feel like God could claim you back any second… One of His most beautiful angels…"
My heart skips a beat and I grapple at his sweater. "You're unbelievable."
"You keep saying this."
"Because you are," I insist. "You're endlessly romantic. You're fierce and smart and caring. You're all I could've asked for. You're all I could possibly want."
"And you'reall I want," he says. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"
"You didn't," I say, pulling his nearer. "And you didn't kiss me yet, too."
He smiles handsomely, ending the distance between us and pressing his lips softly against mine. My chest feels light and full of joy as he rests his warm hand on my nape, deepening our kiss. I feel like a little bird, trapped in the snare of his delectable lips. When he moves away, I moan in protest.
"We have to go," he says. "Or your father will think I'm corrupting his little princess."
I roll my eyes. "I'm not a princess."
He smirks, whispering by my ear: "No. You're a goddess."
I feel shivers run up and down my spine as he winks at me, grabbing the cake and a handful of Floo Powder and entering the fireplace. I watch him disappear and, at last, it's my turn to go. It's as instinctive as breathing. In a second, I'm standing inside the fireplace, seeing my Dad's office in front of me; in the next, I'm stepping over the fluffy emerald green rug in my grandparents' living room.
Everything is wonderfully decorated. The tree in the corner is resplendent, in shades of red and silver, glistening beautifully with glittering stars and bells all over it. There are garlands wrapped around the staircase's handrail, with pending candy canes and red bows. From the ceiling, floating little stars launch magical lights over the room. Over the coffee table, a tray of gingerbread cookies rest invitingly.
I leave the presents underneath the tree and before I even have the time to take a step, I feel arms closing around me. The scent of cherry tobacco invades my nostrils, relaxing and warming me more than a cup of hot chocolate. Grandpa moves away just a bit, holding my face in between his hands.
"My darling," he says. "How wonderful to see you. Even more wonderful to see you are well and unharmed. I wrote a very distressed letter to Dumbledore. How irresponsible of him, hiring Cecil Lee of all people, and not handling such awful situation properly. I'm proud of you for being able to take care of the situation and I'm also glad to see that you are okay."
He places a kiss on my forehead and smiles softly. "I read the letter you sent me last week. I was hoping to be able to talk to you before doing anything. Just so you know, I'll gladly accompany you and Bill Weasley to Knockturn Alley. No need to worry about it. I'll be watching."
"Thank you, Grandpa," I say. "I was thinking about telling Dad about it, but he already got a little distressed about the whole werewolf situation and I didn't want to add to his torment."
"Well, your father is trying to compensate after being away from you for so long," he tells me. "I don't they he'd be able to think straight and let you handle the situation. Well, now is not the time to discuss these things. Let's enjoy our little Christmas dinner and talk about it tomorrow, okay?"
"Oh, Sebastian, do not take her all to yourself," Grandma says, opening her arms to give me a hug. "Happy Christmas, sweetheart."
"Happy Christmas, Grandma," I say.
"Holly is dying to see you," she says. "She's in the kitchen, adding the final touches to her trifle. Talbott is helping her."
I smile. "Is he? God, he can't seem to take his hands of the baking books."
By the fireplace, Grandpa joins Dad and Phil for some scotch, while Grandma fixes the star atop of the three, which is pending a little to the left. I head to the kitchen, where I see Holly, standing over a bench, placing fresh strawberries over a huge trifle. Next to her, Talbott is separating some mint leaves. When Holly sees me, she opens a huge smile.
"Athena!"
I lock my arms around her, placing a kiss on her cheek. "I missed you so much. Thank you for helping us with Rubeus' birthday."
"Oh, it was a pleasure," she says, happily. "I was surprised that you didn't get to bake some things yourselves in Hogwarts."
"Well, Pitts isn't a fan of people using his kitchen for party purposes," I tell her.
"Who is Pitts?" she asks.
"The head of the kitchen elves," Talbott explains. "And sort of Athena's boss."
"He sounds like a bitter kind," Holly says. "House elves are gentle by nature. God knows what the poor guy has been through before ending up at Hogwarts."
I'm unsettled by her words. "I… I never… paid much thought to it. I though he was just… naturally angry."
She flashes me a comprehensive grin. "We all have stories, my little witch. It… shapes us… into what we are today."
I fix the Santa hat she's wearing. "What's your story, Holly?"
"You know my story," she says, adding one last big strawberry on top of the fresh whipped cream.
Talbott places some mint leaves among the strawberries, finishing the trifle with a sprinkle of powdered sugar.
"I know you lived with the Clements," I say. "I know it wasn't very nice over there, but I don't know your whole story."
She blinks her jade eyes at me; pools of wisdom with a pinch of sadness. There's much more to her lovely gaze than she lets show. She takes the trifle to the refrigerator and grabs a jar of cold iced tea, pouring a glass for me and one for Talbott.
"I think we have some time before your relatives start arriving," she says, softly. "Talbott, could you pass me those carrots? I need to finish the salad. Well… My story… Where do I begin?"
She begins slicing the carrots with a pensive expression upon her face. "I was born in 1963 in Cork, in the south of Ireland. My parents, Dove and Morty, worked in a manor-house that belonged to the Fitzgerald family. My mother was their cook and my father, their gardener. I learned a lot from them in my early years of life. Lessons I brought with me to England. How to cook… How to tend the herbs…"
Talbott and I sit by the kitchen table, hypnotized by the softness of her words. They are full of nostalgia and almost transport us back to those times, where Holly was a little house-elf, still mesmerized by the world.
"Back then, I didn't know what being a slave meant," she continues. "My parents never let me see their pain or anguish. They were allowed to have me, but with their masters' permission. My mother nearly lost me, because she was beaten cruelly when she was pregnant. It broke my father, not being able to do anything. It's the house-elf way, you know. Always consent. Never complain. Pretend that… that you don't have feelings."
"When I was ten, they had another child. My brother, Dobby, was a sweet little thing. I was barely able to see him learn how to walk," she says, sadly. "I was eleven when I was taken here, to England, when Mrs. Fitzgerald's daughter, Miss Josette, married Mr. Raleigh Garland. They lived in Penzance, in a mansion by the sea. They had so many house-elves that I barely remember half of their names. I learned the elven ways with them. I was taught how to cook, clean and do laundry the way the Garlands demanded. It was different than what I had learned from my mother. When I was fifteen, Miss Josette had her first son, a boy named Andrew, and I was entrusted with taking care of the baby. Well, I was so young and I knew nothing about taking care of babies, and baby Andrew never stopped crying. Sometimes I'd spend days without sleep, trying to calm him down at all hours of the day and night. His mother rarely held him and his father was never home. It didn't take long for Miss Josette to find out that her husband had another family, in another city. Oh, she got so angry…"
I clench my jaw, trembling with the thought of what's coming. Holly finishes slicing the carrots and starts chopping some tomatoes. Her movements are fluid like the water that brings her memories to her lips, like little boats that sail softly over a lake. Holly seems absorbed in her own story, her eyes bearing the sadness that comes with tragedies.
"She couldn't leave him," Holly tells. "Her family would've never allowed. The Garlands were a respectful family in Penzance. She was trapped in an unhappy marriage and had no way of escaping that life. She did what she had to do to release her frustrations. Whenever little Andrew cried, she'd hit me. At first, started innocently. A little kick here and there. Oh, but Andrew cried incessantly. Perhaps if he knew what happened whenever he cried, he would've stopped. That baby loved me… He would've stopped if he understood… But he was just a baby… With time, Miss Josette only got angrier. She hit my head against the nightstand corner once… I was unconscious for hours. That's how I got this scar."
She runs her long fingers over a faint white scar on her forehead. "Our skins becomes a map to what we lived," she says. "When Miss Josette found out that Mr. Garland was expecting another child with his other wife and was going to leave her… Well, it nearly ended her. She was blinded by anger. She broke one of my arms after hitting me for several hours. I was numbed by the pain at that point. After that, she didn't want to see me anymore. She dispatched me to Exeter, to work for her sister, Geraldine, who was married to Mr. Dirk Clements."
Holly starts placing the salad in a beautiful plate, making a mosaic with all the colourful vegetables. "Miss Josette killed herself sometime later. She jumped off a cliff… with little Andrew in her arms."
A solitary tear falls down her eye. "That baby had nothing to do with it. It wasn't his fault that things had to be so difficult. Well, after that, I was part of a different house. Mr. Clements didn't have another family. Mrs. Clements barely suffered with her sister's death. They had everything to be a normal family. A safe family."
She sighs. "I learned from them the concept of punishing myself. I was never good enough. Never did things right. Cutting or burning myself was part of my daily life," she says, sadness growing within her. "I wanted to tell my parents what I was going through. I wanted to ask if that was normal. If that was the life they had too. They didn't know how to read… I didn't know how to write… The Clements would've never allowed me to write them a letter anyway. So… I kept things to myself. That was the life I knew… The life I would have for years and years to come."
"Things got better when I met your grandmother," she tells me. "She came one day, bringing some potions that Mrs. Clements had ordered. She was horrified when Mrs. Clements ordered for me to iron my hands for putting too much sugar in her tea. A few days later, she returned with an offer. The Clements didn't care much about losing one of their elves… and getting money in an exchange of one? Well, it was easy the choice."
She smiles at me. "That's how I ended up here," she says. "It took a while for me to understand what your grandmother was proposing. Freedom was a concept I was unfamiliar with. Being able to come and go whenever I wanted... Being paid to work… Having the choice to work here or somewhere else… Well, I knew I wouldn't find this kind of life elsewhere. Lockhart Gardens seemed like such a peaceful place… I cried for hours when your grandmother showed me the room she made for me, with a beautiful view of the sea… It was strange at first… Sharing meals with my masters… Being treated with kindness… Having my own money to buy things I wanted… And when she taught me how to read and write… It was so blissful… A different kind of freedom… I got to visit faraway lands through your grandfather's books… And meeting you was the cherry on top, of course."
My lips curl in a smile, part sad and part happy. "I'm happy that you are happy here, Holly. It saddens me that you had to live such woeful things, but I'm happy that your story had a happy ending."
"Oh, my story is far its end," she says, pensive. "There are still things that I want. Wanting things was also a concept that I've come to learn with the years of working here… I would love to marry someday. Meet someone special… Have a little house in the woods… Have a few kids… Raise them away from the hell of slavery… I would like to see my family again… See my parents… My brother… I think I've read too many books while living here… I still have dreams that I'm marrying in white… With my father next to me…"
A tear falls down my face.
"Why are you crying, sweet pea?" she asks, walking to me and drying my tear with her thumb. "You'll mess up your makeup."
"It's just…" I say, containing a sob. "It's such a beautiful dream. I pray that it becomes real someday. No one deserves it more than you, Holly."
"Good evening, everyone!" someone exclaims, loud and joyfully, from the living room.
I instantly roll my eyes. "It's my Aunt Anise. Don't listen to what she says, Tal. She has zero respect for others."
"Can't wait to meet her," he says, sarcastically.
We help Holly take the salad and the rest of desserts to the dining table. As we step into the living room, Aunt Anise is already lodged in the armchair by the Christmas tree, dressed in glittery green robes, wearing bright red pumps. She's holding a tall glass of wine, her long talons painted with sparkling red polish. When she seems me, she opens a big phony smile.
"Athena, dear!" she says in a high pitched voice. "How lovely to see you!"
I flash a forced smile at Talbott, who comes to my side and wraps an arm around my shoulders, protectively.
"Oh, and who is this lad?" she asks.
"Aunt, this is my boyfriend, Talbott," I introduce. "Tal, my Aunt Anise."
"Did I just hear boyfriend?" Gil says, descending the staircase. "Sorry, I had to fix my hair. Well, well, well, Athena. What a surprise! You with a boyfriend? I always thought you were gay!"
My grin intensifies, faker than ever. "What made you think that?"
"Oh, a bunch of reasons," he says, gesticulating dramatically. "The way you dress, the way you stand up to people… It's so rude… I've heard about the things you're doing in school. Fighting werewolves? That is so not girly. Not to mention the split ends in your hair."
"Well, isn't none of your concern, but I'm not," I say. "Tal, this is my cousin, Gilderoy. Gil, this is Talbott."
"Couldn't find a handsome kind like my Gil, apparently," Aunt Anise says. "No offense, Timothy."
"It's Talbott," Tal says, serious. "And none taken."
"Dinner is ready," Holly says, a huge roasted turkey floating next to her while she carries two jars of iced-tea in her hands.
"Let me help you with that," I say, rushing to her.
"Don't help the elf, Athena!" Aunt Anise says, sharply. "You're not here to help her do her work."
I flash her a burning stare. "Don't tell me what to do."
"See?" Gil says. "That's exactly the kind of attitude that gets people thinking you're a dyke."
I place my hands on my hips. "I don't care if people think I'm a dyke. I care about people being rude to my friends."
The fireplace burns in all shades of green, and a lot of my relatives start to arrive, one after the other. My great-Aunt Agnes, followed by Aunt Agrafena and her daughter, my cousin Ambrosia. Then my great-Aunt Althea and her daughter, Acacia and Acadia. Finally, a young man leaves the fireplace and Ambrosia hooks her arm in his, eying him lovingly.
"Ambrosia, you came!" Gil says, a little too happily. "You brought a boyfriend too?"
She looks at me man, smiling affectionately. "Fiancée. This is Azriel."
"It is lovely to have you with us," Grandma says. "Now, why don't we have ourselves a lovely Christmas dinner?"
Still standing by the fireplace, Dad pours a glassful of scotch to my Uncle Bart. As soon as he joins Aunt Anise and Gil at the dining table, I see Dad lean on to whisper something to Phil:
"I told you she was nasty."
Talbott and I supress a laugh. I sit next to Grandpa and Holly sits between Talbott and Phil. My father and Phil share secretive giggles during the entire meal, especially when Aunt Anise decides it's a good idea to interpret a scene from one of Gil's book, using a turkey leg as a ghoul and an asparagus as Gil. I almost spit my iced tea when she grabs a roasted potato to serve as a werewolf, making the tuberculous howl to a moon made of a cherry tomato.
"Tell me, Athena," Gil says, after his mother's impressive demonstration of his abilities. "What spell did you use against the werewolves?"
I clean my throat. "The Stunning Spell."
"Oh, but that's not a very effective one," he says. "You should've used Luna Captionina. It's far more powerful."
He soon proceeds to tell everyone – again – about his werewolf adventures, laughing exaggeratedly every now and then. It takes all of me not to roll my eyes with every single one of his words.
Talbott leans closer to me. "That wasn't a real spell, was it?"
"No," I whisper back.
Dinner continues as usual: with Gil stealing the scene and Aunt Anise repeating how awesome he is. Next to Holly, Dad and Phil continue refilling their glasses of scotch, gossiping and laughing after everything that comes out of Gil's mouth. Aunt Anise doesn't notice their sarcastic comments, because she's wasted herself.
I take a slice of Talbott's yule log cake and chew one of the meringue mushrooms. "This is delicious, Tal."
He rests his nose against my temple, whispering by my ear: "Not as delicious as your lips."
I blush furiously, feeling my heart drumming fast inside my chest. I look at him bashfully, making him smile.
"I love it when you get shy," he says.
A while later, with our stomachs full, we all move to the living room for some tea. Aunt Anise crashes in the armchair, dozing off almost immediately.
"Athena, sweetheart," Grandma says. "Why don't you play us a song?"
I smile. "It will be a pleasure, Grandma."
I sit by the piano, resting my hands upon the ivory keys. The melody engulfs me, soft and mesmerizing. A song that my father loves. A song that Jake used to play for me. A song that Gil will be unable to sing with me.
"I have a dream… A song to sing… To help me cope… With anything…," I sing. "If you see the wonder… Of a fairytale… You can take the future… Even if you fail…"
From the couch, Dad flashes me a loving smile. I close my eyes, remembering how Jake used to sit on the grass, his guitar in hand, and how his melodies and voice brought joy to all of us. Right now, it is my voice and melodies that, somehow, draw him closer to us.
"I believe in angels… Something good in everything I see… I believe in angels… When I know the time is right for me… I'll cross the stream… I have a dream…"
Standing by the fireplace, Talbott looks at me with a crooked smile. My heart rejoices at the sight of him, so handsome and secretive… Someone who taught me how to fly, who fought beside and me who encouraged me when I thought everything was lost… Someone who loved me and cared for me and satisfied my strange desires…
He's all I want and that's for sure.
After a few more tunes by the piano, little by little my relatives start to go away, leaving only my grandparents, Holly, Dad, Phil, Tal and myself in the silent living room.
"Ugh, thank God!" Dad groans. "I still can't believe she is your daughter, Agatha. Annette was so different."
"You know what, Chris?" Grandma says. "Sometimes I wonder the same thing."
"Now we can open the presents in peace," Grandpa adds.
To Grandpa, I got him a box of the best Captain Black tobaccos, which I had bought on their store in our neighbourhood, earlier that day. To Grandma, a book on the newest achievements in potions, that I got in Hogsmeade, during one of the many strolls I took with Talbott. To my father, the newest Van Halen album. To Holly, Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. To Phil, Dad got him a bottle of Jack Daniels.
To Talbott, my sweet and loving boyfriend, I got him something I retrieved that same day. I had sent a letter to a bookshop on the corner of our street, asking them to reserve a collection of books. When Tal opens the package, his eyes widen to the sight of Love Letters of Great Men, volumes 1, 2 and 3. He opens his usual handsome smile and leans on to kiss me softly. Dad huffs and looks away, pretending to be a little vexed.
In addition, I get a marvellous set of writing-paper from Holly, all decorated in flourishes and flowers, with the condition that I must send her letters regularly. From my grandparents, I get a wondrous bracelet, of all the solar system. Each planet is made of a different stone, cold to the touch, and sparkling beautifully under the candle lights. From Dad, a book called The Alchemist, from a Brazilian author. At last, from darling Talbott, I get a lovely necklace, with a red zircon pendant, shaped like a drop. I lean against him, whispering to his ear:
"Is this supposed to be a blood drop?"
His response is a wink, flirtatious and secretive. It's something of our own personal world. A part of who he is, that had never frightened me, and, instead, made me only more intrigued.
Before the night ends, Grandpa finds a way to call me into his office. He light his pipe, sitting comfortably in his chair, and releasing circles of smoke into the air.
"It isn't an easy thing, venturing into Knockturn Alley," he tells me. "It's a dangerous thing and will require a lot of you and Bill. You'll have to be chameleons, camouflaging into those dark streets. Wear only black; it will make you blend against the stones. Don't speak to loud; they tend to mostly murmur around there. You are not allowed to use magic outside of school yet, so you will have to rely on Bill. He must be aware one hundred percent of the time. Don't be bewitched by interesting rumours or conversations. Keep an eye on what you want. Find it, retrieve it and get out of there. Do you understand, darling?"
I nod.
"I will be right after you," he says. "It isn't uncommon there, to be followed by strangers. People won't find it unusual. Now, about the man you are looking for… Mundungus Fletcher is a slippery man. He's a petty criminal who will do anything to escape your claws. Don't let him fool you, Athena. Don't let him sweet talk you. He will pretend he doesn't know anything and he won't give information easily, unless he's threatened. I hope Bill has a few good spells in his arsenal. Dung is remarkably afraid of anyone stronger than him. Let's just home that he has what you are looking for and that it leads us faster to Jacob and to the end of the Cursed Vaults."
"I'm not afraid," I say. "After seeing what these curses do to the ones I care about… It only made me more purposeful."
He grins. "That's my little witch. Now, I believe it's time for you to go home. Tell Bill we'll meet him by Knockturn Alley's entrance in the 26th. Mondays are busy days around there. At dawn, more specifically. I'll show up by your house, inviting you to have dinner with me. Your father won't suspect."
I nod again. "I hope to find what I'm looking for."
He smiles softly. "You will, my darling. I won't let anything stand in your way. In a blink of an eye, Jacob will be with us again. You'll see."
With Grandpa's inspiring words, I return to the living room, where we finally enter the fireplace to return home. Talbott accompanies his tipsy grandfather back to their apartment and Dad crashes in his bed, still with his clothes on, before I even have the time to lock the door. I slip into my pyjamas, but before getting under the covers, I put on the necklace Talbott gave me. It glistens in the dark and when I finally lie down, the touch of the stone against my chest is like an enchantment. I'm so delighted for having him that I barely hear the sound of wings by my window, followed by soft footsteps towards my bed. I don't need to open my eyes to know who's crawling under my covers.
"Grandpa passed out," he whispers.
"Dad too," I say.
He takes me into his arms, kissing me in a burning passion that brings my heart to a race. Everything is instinctive, warm and lustful. I'm wrapped around his fingers, bewitched by every touch, caress and taste. As the night grows old, I roll my eyes in the darkness with every single one of his vampire kisses.
* Innocence – Avril Lavigne.
