Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: Summer is here in the story at least, but the English summer I wrote looks more like the weather outside my window... Enjoy! (Also I spent ages finding the right font for Lorcan's handwriting and as of now it's still there, but we'll see what FF does to that...)
Chapter Seventeen
Thursday, July 7th 2022
Kendall Home, Barnton, Cheshire, England
Grace clutches her cup of tea and looks out the window. Her summer has been rather rainy so far and she finds herself looking forward to the two weeks they will be spending in Italy. She loves getting to spend this time with her cousins each year.
They don't see each other a lot during the school year even though most of them are attending Hogwarts. Six of her eight cousins were swirling around the school last year, but because of their widely differing schedules and the fact that they are spread out across all four houses (admittedly rather favoring Gryffindor, only her sister Ashlyn wears green and silver), it is not unusual for Grace to go a week without seeing some of them. She sees Matthew often, because he is in her year, and David frequently, because he got sorted into Ravenclaw nigh on two years ago now, but the others she generally sees only when either they seek her out or she goes looking for them.
Grace wonders sometimes whether she doesn't miss them as much as she misses her friends because she never got used to seeing them every day. It's certainly not because she doesn't love them.
"What has you looking so thoughtful, birdie?"
Grace turns from the window to look at her grandmother. Granny is sitting in her favorite rocking chair that Mum claims is only held together by magic these days. She is holding her own cup of tea and smiling in a way that makes Grace feel like Granny understands her better than she understands herself.
"Nothing important." Grace takes a sip of her tea and glances at the window again.
"You've been looking out windows an awful lot today," Granny comments with a smile. Grace shrugs. She knows she has, but she doesn't quite feel like sharing. "Whose owl are you waiting for?" And there it is again. She should call it Granny's I-am-old-and-wise-and-know-more-than-you smile. Grace just hopes she isn't blushing as she hides behind her tea.
"It doesn't matter," she says, even as she catches herself turning to the window again. It's Thursday, that's all.
She can tell that Granny is studying her closely, can feel the eyes on her, but she just stares into her tea.
It's Thursday, and there are a million unfinished letters sitting on her desk.
"I wish you would talk to me, sweetheart," Granny says in that way of hers that makes Grace want to spill her innermost secrets. But she doesn't. She isn't even sure what her secret is. She isn't sure why she is moping around and staring out windows. She is just sure that it's Thursday.
It's Thursday, and there are a million unfinished letters on her desk, but she just doesn't know what to say.
They sit together in silence after that, each woman sipping her tea, and Grace finds her thoughts wandering, drawing ever closer to the one topic she's tried to avoid all day. Lorcan. She finds herself thinking about him a great deal these days. And she wonders what it means. She also wonders if she wants to know, she wonders if it mightn't be easier not to know. What she does know is that she's been moody and not at all looking forward to the evening. She isn't used to spending Thursday evenings on her own anymore.
It's Thursday, and there are a million unfinished letters on her desk, but she just doesn't know what to say apart from I miss you and it's raining here.
Granny's voice once again draws her out of her thoughts. "Isn't that Eva's owl?"
Grace looks up and turns to the window. "It's their family owl, actually," she tells Granny. And her heart is absolutely not beating faster than it should when she opens the window.
It's Thursday, and there are a million unfinished letters on her desk, but she just doesn't know what to say apart from I miss you and it's raining here and I can't wait for Paris.
The owl glides through the open window and circles the room once before landing in front of Grace and presenting a letter to her. She unties it carefully and tells herself that her fingers are not shaking, because why would they? And then she turns the letter over in her hands so she can see who it's addressed to.
Grace, it says on the front of the envelope. And she knows that handwriting.
It's Thursday, and there are a million unfinished letters on her desk, but she just doesn't know what to say apart from I miss you and it's raining here and I can't wait for Paris. But maybe she doesn't have to know.
She looks up and finds Granny studying her intently once again. "I know that look, birdie. You and your mother are enough alike for me to recognize it." She pauses and Grace feels that even when she hasn't told Granny her innermost secrets, the woman knows Grace's heart better than she herself does. "I'm glad you're happy," her grandmother tells her. And then, when Grace glances at the door, she smiles and adds, "Go ahead."
And Grace leaves, the letter pressed to her chest.
It's Thursday, and there are a million unfinished letters on her desk, but she just doesn't know what to say apart from I miss you and it's raining here and I can't wait for Paris. But maybe she doesn't have to know. Because he does.
Thank you for reading! Please leave a review :) Next update should be Sunday or Monday :)