They had watched the sunset over the woods from the sky. They had sat on brooms over the water and now Basil sat by the fire sipping a spiked, warmed butterbeer by the fire. He surveyed the events and knew he would sleep well and deeply that evening. He knew in the way he had known other things. His mother and uncles had asked where he got the gift from and why his divination's marks hadn't been higher. It had been a running joke and yet… Lydia was telling Philippa about the intricacies of certain obscure magic but everyone was listening casually or lost in their own thoughts. Pieces of their conversation would float over to him. The sun was well set but every time he closed his eyes he could see it setting again and the beauty of it, the warm, orange, brightness of it. He smiled at the memory of it buoyant on his broom. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face even as he knew it was the fire in front of them.
Basil doesn't have the actual memory of his aunt's wedding but had heard the story so many times that he felt that he remembered it but he is in the wrong place. He doesn't know why he started crying and reached out to his aunt at the altar because in this memory of him, about him, he is older and sitting in the back row watching himself and his family. Baby Basil starts crying and he reaches out to his aunt and his mother scoops him up and the audience ahhs. Poor baby he hears someone to his right. The women sitting directly in front of him turns and makes a sincere pouting face to her neighbor. Baby Basil redoubles his efforts and screams even louder and as his mother is getting up to exit, bent double down the aisle, even as everyone can hear him and see them both, he calls out to his aunt. His voice comes out sad but determined. He can't pronounce all of the sounds in the correct order yet but everyone knows who he's talking about. His mother winces and tries to be discreet carrying him out and he wriggles out of her arms and she has to scoop him up like a falling sand. He makes it so that she can't hold him properly and she is this close to the floor trying to get him back into her arms and he senses and opportunity and makes a mad, wobbly scramble for the altar.
His mother might as well stand up and run for him, it would be easier, but it's a wedding and everyone feels like they don't want to be the reason for a ruined wedding (especially their own sister's!) even though that can't happen because a baby running for his aunt doesn't know any better and anyway, that's the best part. Basil's mother isn't fast enough and he, in his non-memory can see her face drawn and turning. He watches himself as a baby with a detached amusement peeking over other people's head and shoulders as his mom scoops him up again right before he gets to his aunt. His father thinks this is all very funny even as he makes a half-hearted gesture to stop his own child but he is curious how this will all play out and isn't so concerned about ruining a wedding because he's been married for a few years now and is the father of this very toddler and knows that the wedding is the easy part.
Baby Basil screams even harder but they both look up. Baby Basil and Memory him look at his aunt and her arms are outstretched and she's smiling and looks so sad because her heart hurts for her first baby. Her favorite person. Her sister holds her child. It's ok, his aunt's face says. She nods and his mother hands him over to her. His aunt wraps her arms around him and he wraps his arms around her neck and they are holding onto each other. She turns back around to face the officiant but she is rocking back and forth and her cheek is rested on the top of her nephew's head. People are crying in the audience. He doesn't look at his uncle in his memory and doesn't remember that his aunt looked at him deferring and sweetly and asked "may I", knowing he would say, "yes, of course". That he could give her everything but the one thing she wanted. It is only the two of them. Baby Basil in his aunt's arms and even in his own memory of other people's memories the audience is gone and even Adult Basil is gone and it is just him as baby and his aunt holding onto each other. They are trapped or are protecting each other from nothing in a place that doesn't exist, even in other people's memories.
Basil chalks this behavior up to the gift that all children and animals have to sense things and to act at the right moment. His aunt cannot have children and his uncle only wanted to make her happy and for her to be happy. Maybe they are or aren't, Basil doesn't think too much about it. She is still the same funny, bright woman. Basil is still her first and favorite baby even though he is no longer a child. There is a picture of this moment somewhere. His uncle looking at them and smiling sadly and maybe even he knows. Maybe that's why they are still together because he knew, if she could pick one, a child or him, it would not have been him but, there was not and there would not be a child so there they were.
The butterbeer and the sound of fire is making him sleepy. The memories are making him sleepy. If they could have managed it, another day like this would be ideal but that will not be possible. The day in itself was a miracle. He is glad he brought his own tent and kitting utilitarian though they were. He would most likely wake up in the middle of the night or not sleep at all and think a dreamy, subconscious think. He will think everything and nothing and will or won't remember his ideas and thoughts in the morning. If Lydia and Philippa keep it up, he will not be able to walk around or maybe he can join them in the discussion. Maybe he can learn something. After all, there are several people here who work for the ministry. Maybe he could be an auror. He will ask Dorcas in the morning, he decides because she is no longer there. Fabian is also gone. Good for them, he thinks.
Basil ended up falling asleep in the chair. He woke up to Gideon nudging him awake. Philippa was already entering another tent. Basil did not know Lydia had already gone to sleep. He did not know if Dorcas or Fabian were back. He stretched his arms and got up heavy with interrupted sleep. Gideon nodded blearily and made a wave of his hand that said, IwouldnothavemindedsleepinginthechairbutIwaswokenupandthereforealsohadtowakeyouupbecauseIcouldn'tjustleaveyoutherebecausethatwouldmakemelookbadeventhoughwewouldhavebothbeenfinesleepingonthesechairs. Gideon entered the tent Basil had packed and was heard collapsing onto the bed. Basil sensed the deep inhale and soft exhale of someone who falls asleep easily. He heard the body language of someone who loved his sleep. Gideon hadn't realized or cared whose tent he entered, he had just walked into the closest one that Philippa hadn't. Basil entered a tent that wasn't his own, the one Philippa had entered nor the one he knew to be the Prewitt's and found it unpopulated and exceedingly well appointed. There was a small chandelier floating at the top of the low ceilinged tent giving of a soft, sparkly glow and two beds dressed in crisp bed clothes. The walls of the tent were made of heavy tapestry with a deep blue pattern shifting subtly and soothingly on an even darker blue field. Candles stood at regular intervals against the walls in pewter holders. Trunks sat at the end of each bed covered with heavy dark quilts, just in case and a tiled sink and shower stood in the corner. He quietly thanked Gideon for his love of sleep as he tucked himself happily into one of the beds. He would ask to be an auror all right if this is what the salary could get you. When he closed his eyes he saw the sunset again, felt warm all over and fell into a deep, luxurious sleep.
Fabian arrived back to camp first. The embers of the fire were still glowing and he recognized the awkwardness of the situation. He did not know who was sleeping where or with whom. He knew two people were in one tent and the others were populated by a person each but the combinations were endless. Lydia and/or Dorcas had brought two tents, he and his brother had brought theirs and Basil most likely brought his own. Fabian had gone back to look at the water and had come back later than he thought. While he was considering what to do he turned at the noise of a branch breaking. Dorcas came out of the woods. She had wandered around to stretch her legs and found herself walking and walking until she got bored. Fabian nodded at her. They were both tired and the day stretched in front of them and behind them in both directions. Fabian, Gideon and Basil camped often enough and with little luxury. Fabian could sleep outside once he got the fire going again. Dorcas could use his tent. He started to walk towards the fire and turned at her insistent quietness. He looked up at her standing at the door of his tent, waiting. Fabian went over, held the tent door open for Dorcas and she walked in and, he let the door, which was only a piece of fabric anyway, drape solidly behind them.
