By Suchan deFamine
Chapter 2
Warnings: Slash, as usual. Can't have a good HP romance without some slash, eh? As usual, flames will be used to melt your face off.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: ….can't think of any. But whatever you do, fellow Americans, remember: Kerry is SCARY. Do not vote for that lying, botox-filled flubbernugget….that's all I had, sorry. --;
Another note: HEY! I found out the quick edit is suddenly working for this chapter, but not for the other. W00p! :D
Disclaimer: (and this goes for every other chapter of this story) I do not own HP. If I did, it would all be one big RWDM romance with a little Blaise Zabini/Seamus Finnigan on the side. And then I'd be living in an old, crumbly German castle with my track star husband, a rickety cat named Hazel, my young, tall, dark and handsome butler, and we'd have this steamy love affair in the tower overlooking the lake …and a typewriter. To do some actual writing, of course. ::giggle::
PS. THANKS TO EVERYRONE WHO REVIEWED! AND PLEASE READ MY OTHER HP FF, Cram Session! THX!
Silver: xO;; ONWARDS!
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Happily Never After: Chapter 2 Trading SpacesoOoOoOoOo
Night finally fell upon the castle of the Yalfoms, and not a single soul was still. Everyone was about, either arriving to the party, preparing the meal or practicing for their entertainment piece.
The acrobats from a neighbouring city were flipping down the dungeon hallway, where no one was present to watch. The minstrel called Gareth sat by the fire and helped me roast a giant hog.
"You know, this cooking bit is more relaxing than trying to play that wretched instrument."
I stared at him. "You don't like to play?"
The minstrel sighed and gazed into the flames. "I wish I could be doing something else. I have been playing the same song for ten years now, on the same fiddle. I want something new, but have no other talent."
"You seem to be doing well with the pig."
A small smile flickered at his lips. "It's not the hardest task in the world."
An idea began to take place in the back of my mind. But it was crazy, would never work. But even to see him tonight would be…
Without another thought, I heard myself say, "We could trade places." FOOL!
As the spit turned slowly around and around, Gareth watched his hands. His face contracted in thought. "Do you know how to play?"
Obviously, no.
But I was desperate. "Can you teach me?"
The minstrel shook his head. "I do not think so, Roland. Even a few simple notes would take a night of practice and I only know one song."
"I can play a flute." He grinned at this.
"Well?"
"Well enough so that I would not be exposed as a mere kitchen servant."
"We have a deal, young Roland. I will stay and complete your culinary tasks, and you will go into the hall at the eighth hour and play your flute for the guests."
With all the extra help for the feast, I would not be missed and Gareth would not be discovered to be where he should not.
Now. If only I could relinquish my fear of playing my instrument in front of others.
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I slipped out of the kitchen door silently and ran back to my family's small hut near the garden. No one was inside, and I reached my small trunk, containing everything I myself owned, and recovered the dusty flute, abandoned a year ago once Baron Yalfom forbade me to play again, and told me that I should "be spending more time working and less on your own wretched life." Pleasant fellow.
Shaking, I lifted the instrument to my lips and began my favourite tune. Notes creaked out of the battered flute unsteadily. Outside, a cat began to howl. So maybe I wasn't the world's best flutist. I was only in need of some practise.
I played a few of the songs I knew again. They began to sound better. Hurriedly, deciding I had had enough practice, I ran out of the house and back into the kitchen, through a secret door where I was to meet Gareth.
The minstrel-turned-chef was trying an apron about his middle and indicated the musician's garb askew on a barrel of aged burgundy wine. I donned these garments and reclaimed my flute.
A mutual sigh was had and I felt my stomach become fluttery with nervousness. Gareth smiled lopsidedly at me, but I couldn't smile back.
What in God's holy name was I doing?
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End Chapter Two.
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