A/N: Are curious what will happen when Yulia and Sirius meet? You'll have
to wait, ha ha ha!!!!
Three: Interlude – the trip
Yulia took the train. She had never before gone on trip on the famous East- West Magical Train Route that took Wizards and Witches from Warsaw to London. Probably International Floo Network would have been faster, less tiring, but it didn't matter to Yulia. Slower trip meant a farewell to her. A farewell to Poland she used to know and love, a Poland with all its good and (mainly) bad and painful memories.
She had only a small suitcase with herself, filled with the most personal things, like favorite quills, beloved books, photos, and other theoretically insignificant stuff. Her clothes, heavier books and notes were sent few days before and were waiting for her somewhere in London. Or at Hogwarts.
She sat by the window, allowed her mind to drift, and her eyes were watching the landscape half-consciously.
Her compartment was wonderful, it consisted of a bed with marvelous, white sheets with tiny roses stamps, a cupboard, comfortable chair and a kitchen window through which she could order her meals. She wanted no meals. Her antibiotics therapy was over and she helped herself with a bottle of good, old, Hungarian wine. The bitter taste of late summer fruit made her wonder if it was possible to get such wines in England. She hoped not only French and Rein wines were available.
'I can still ask Veareen to send me some of Bulgarian' she smiled, relaxed because the great medicament called wine was working. But a thought of her Bulgarian friend disrupted the peace. Yulia recalled her last hours in Poland.
Last weeks were awful: she was still recovering, had to pack her things, quarreled with friends and employer about the reasons why she leaved (nobody, nobody in the world believed she MET there a man she loved and all of them thought it was only an excuse to go away). But she knew she met him, she knew she loved him and, under her skin, she felt he wasn't waiting for her in Poland.
She wasn't sure he was waiting for her in London, too. He could have been anywhere: the States, Australia, he could be a refugee in Argentina or businessman in Japan. Yulia was sad. She knew why she was sad in Poland: because she was alone and wasn't looking for the man. But now she was leaving, why the hell was she so depressed?
She smiled ironically to her blurry mirror on the glass, hardly visible on the running-away landscape of yellow, yes it was August at the time, fields and green, huge trees. Dreamy rivers and lazy birds sitting on the electricity lines. The landscape was steady, eternal and, that's most important, earnest. Nothing more was earnest to her. Her life was insincere. Strange...
The view annoyed her. Because it was telling her, she won't be more peaceful there, where she was going. The anxiety, loneliness won't disappear, just like that. She was apprehensive while she was more reasonable than she should be and she knew it was an impossible job to find a man out of few billions.
[][][][][][][][][][]
And the birds were singing their farewell. Loudly or silently, sweetly or piercingly. They were flying here and there, assisting the train in the way dolphins accompanied the ships. The were looking through the windows, trying to guess people's points of view however they were completely uninterested in their thoughts and feelings. They were laughing and crying, commenting or watching. Indifferent or annoyingly curious were discussing the life. Some of them were sure, Yulia was doing right, some of them, contrarily, laughed at her, silly and idealistic. Yulia laughed at them, too. They meant nothing to her and their accusations of being too romantic were too ridiculous to be treated seriously.
{}{}{{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
For Yulia wasn't romantic at all: she went to school, then studied then worked. She had several affairs, but none of them she could have called romantic. It was rather like being with somebody's body, like talking to different mind: everything but romance. She talked reasonably about her ambitions and plans, she was interested in politics and classical music; she knew Geography and had her opinion on every subject. And when she judged things, she judged wisely. Because she always placed her brains, or pleasure if she could, before her heart. Yulia always made sure that she was famous for being rational. That's why her departure because of a sudden following the voice of her heart was astonishing.
Good, old, predictable Yulia Perun startled the whole world and first time in twenty-nine years she decided to do something for herself. It was an uneasy feeling. She...
Yulia's mind made a sudden turn. Her heart stopped beating, she stopped breathing. She was not a twenty-nine-years old woman. She missed her thirtieth birthday. She felt miserable and old at once. Old. She had always thought that at the age of thirty she would have her life in perfect order.
She did something completely different: she was beginning her life once again.
][][][][][][][][][][][][][][
And the trees Yulia was passing by turned their heads to show displeasure or happiness because of the fact she was there. Yulia could not see them, but believed they existed, wiser than people, even wizards, older than the world, free from stupid passions that were to destroy human's world. Free from pressure and desire. Ready only to contemplate the beautiful sky that was above and faithful ground at their roots. They were waiting passively for their fate to fulfill. Yulia decided she did not want to be a tree. She wanted to act. Maybe stupidly, but act.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
AN: So what do you think? Is Yulia going the right way? Comment please! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Three: Interlude – the trip
Yulia took the train. She had never before gone on trip on the famous East- West Magical Train Route that took Wizards and Witches from Warsaw to London. Probably International Floo Network would have been faster, less tiring, but it didn't matter to Yulia. Slower trip meant a farewell to her. A farewell to Poland she used to know and love, a Poland with all its good and (mainly) bad and painful memories.
She had only a small suitcase with herself, filled with the most personal things, like favorite quills, beloved books, photos, and other theoretically insignificant stuff. Her clothes, heavier books and notes were sent few days before and were waiting for her somewhere in London. Or at Hogwarts.
She sat by the window, allowed her mind to drift, and her eyes were watching the landscape half-consciously.
Her compartment was wonderful, it consisted of a bed with marvelous, white sheets with tiny roses stamps, a cupboard, comfortable chair and a kitchen window through which she could order her meals. She wanted no meals. Her antibiotics therapy was over and she helped herself with a bottle of good, old, Hungarian wine. The bitter taste of late summer fruit made her wonder if it was possible to get such wines in England. She hoped not only French and Rein wines were available.
'I can still ask Veareen to send me some of Bulgarian' she smiled, relaxed because the great medicament called wine was working. But a thought of her Bulgarian friend disrupted the peace. Yulia recalled her last hours in Poland.
Last weeks were awful: she was still recovering, had to pack her things, quarreled with friends and employer about the reasons why she leaved (nobody, nobody in the world believed she MET there a man she loved and all of them thought it was only an excuse to go away). But she knew she met him, she knew she loved him and, under her skin, she felt he wasn't waiting for her in Poland.
She wasn't sure he was waiting for her in London, too. He could have been anywhere: the States, Australia, he could be a refugee in Argentina or businessman in Japan. Yulia was sad. She knew why she was sad in Poland: because she was alone and wasn't looking for the man. But now she was leaving, why the hell was she so depressed?
She smiled ironically to her blurry mirror on the glass, hardly visible on the running-away landscape of yellow, yes it was August at the time, fields and green, huge trees. Dreamy rivers and lazy birds sitting on the electricity lines. The landscape was steady, eternal and, that's most important, earnest. Nothing more was earnest to her. Her life was insincere. Strange...
The view annoyed her. Because it was telling her, she won't be more peaceful there, where she was going. The anxiety, loneliness won't disappear, just like that. She was apprehensive while she was more reasonable than she should be and she knew it was an impossible job to find a man out of few billions.
[][][][][][][][][][]
And the birds were singing their farewell. Loudly or silently, sweetly or piercingly. They were flying here and there, assisting the train in the way dolphins accompanied the ships. The were looking through the windows, trying to guess people's points of view however they were completely uninterested in their thoughts and feelings. They were laughing and crying, commenting or watching. Indifferent or annoyingly curious were discussing the life. Some of them were sure, Yulia was doing right, some of them, contrarily, laughed at her, silly and idealistic. Yulia laughed at them, too. They meant nothing to her and their accusations of being too romantic were too ridiculous to be treated seriously.
{}{}{{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
For Yulia wasn't romantic at all: she went to school, then studied then worked. She had several affairs, but none of them she could have called romantic. It was rather like being with somebody's body, like talking to different mind: everything but romance. She talked reasonably about her ambitions and plans, she was interested in politics and classical music; she knew Geography and had her opinion on every subject. And when she judged things, she judged wisely. Because she always placed her brains, or pleasure if she could, before her heart. Yulia always made sure that she was famous for being rational. That's why her departure because of a sudden following the voice of her heart was astonishing.
Good, old, predictable Yulia Perun startled the whole world and first time in twenty-nine years she decided to do something for herself. It was an uneasy feeling. She...
Yulia's mind made a sudden turn. Her heart stopped beating, she stopped breathing. She was not a twenty-nine-years old woman. She missed her thirtieth birthday. She felt miserable and old at once. Old. She had always thought that at the age of thirty she would have her life in perfect order.
She did something completely different: she was beginning her life once again.
][][][][][][][][][][][][][][
And the trees Yulia was passing by turned their heads to show displeasure or happiness because of the fact she was there. Yulia could not see them, but believed they existed, wiser than people, even wizards, older than the world, free from stupid passions that were to destroy human's world. Free from pressure and desire. Ready only to contemplate the beautiful sky that was above and faithful ground at their roots. They were waiting passively for their fate to fulfill. Yulia decided she did not want to be a tree. She wanted to act. Maybe stupidly, but act.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
AN: So what do you think? Is Yulia going the right way? Comment please! ! ! ! ! ! ! !