I'm back with a long but rather boring chapter. Found some time between revision and housework to write something - oh, how I missed my Frella! Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to update for a while what with exams coming up. Although, I seem to have been hit by the inspiration butterfly (because who doesn't like butterflies?) lately and have uploaded a few one-shots, perhaps some more to come.
Thank you to all the reviews/favourites/follows.
27. Nostalgia Hits Hard With Beards
"Hagrid, are you sure this is safe?"
He grinned, his teeth shining through the bush of his beard and lifted two thumbs up.
"Yeh'll be great, Ella, jus' do as I tol' yeh and yeh won't get stung. Maybe step back a bit more. A little bit more. Yeah? That'll do."
I gulped and returned my gaze to the creature before me that resembled something of a cross between an angry scorpion and an elongated crab. The shiny shell on its back almost reflected my fearful expression. It met my eyes and hissed.
"Hagrid!"
"No worry, no worry, Ella, that's just it tryna scare yeh off," Hagrid said, his hands waving down as if it were an ancient practice used to spread calmness.
"It's working!"
"Naw, it won't do anythin' to yeh. Jus' stay as yeh are and slowly walk it."
I inhaled a large lungful of air and slowly released it. Lifting my leg, I slowly stepped forward. From the crate the other Blast-Ended Skrewt growled in its throat, attracting the attention of the one on the end of my leash. Immediately it made a strange gurgling noise in its throat, the sting twitching in anticipation.
Hagrid had me read up on the beasts a week earlier, but no amount of theory could have prepared me for the practical. It was not my first time walking a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but before when I had done it there were more, and Hagrid had spent a good fifteen minutes attempting to find me a relatively calm one. Now, there were only two remaining, having killed off all the others. It just so happened to be survival of the fittest, and these were the angriest, most violent.
"Hagrid, it's making that noise again, why's it making that noise?" I said, inching as far back as I could.
"It's nothin', proba'ly jus' hungry. Where did the frog livers go, now?"
I didn't dare take my eyes off of the creature, now pawing at the ground, gearing to charge. I tightened my hold on the leash and heard Hagrid fumbling with his coat and mumbling to himself, his voice loud on the empty grounds.
"Ah, here yeh are," he threw a handful of the grotesque, slimy organs on the grass. Sniffing, the Blast-Ended Skrewt flattened itself closer to the ground and searched the floor, its eyes snapping back to the caged Skrewt every few moments. Finding the source of the smell, it scuttled, dragging me along with it and poked its tongue out to taste the liver.
"Yeh see, the cutie was jus' a bi' peckish," Hagrid cooed. He was smiling down at the beast like a proud parent witnessing their child taking their first steps.
"If only you still had the dragons," I said, relaxing my posture as the Skrewt ate and the caged Skrewt watched, grumbling through its chest. Hagrid threw it the remaining frog livers and smiled as it gobbled it greedily.
"I miss 'em. Especially tha' Swedish Shortsnout. Oh, Ella, yeh would've loved them."
"Seeing them was amazing, though," I recalled the first task, the grace of the dragons, their protectiveness and beauty. I imagined their scaly skin beneath my fingertips, the fluttering of their wings and their deep, emphatic roars, menacing to the attackers threatening their unhatched babies, but otherwise used as a greeting. I would take a dragon over a Blast-Ended Skrewt any day.
"Charlie Weasley is yer man to go to if yeh wan' more dragon action," Hagrid called, walking over to me.
"Weasley?"
"Yeah, the twins' brother. He was actually one of the dragon wranglers for the first task." He pulled out something from his pocket – it was smaller than the frogs' livers but just as slimy. "Here, Skrewty, c'mere gorgeous. That a beast," he called, throwing the object in his hands up for the Skrewt to catch.
"The twins didn't say anything about that."
"They probably didn' realise. I'm sure yeh'll get to see dragons again someday."
"What makes you say that?" I asked, digging my feet into the ground to stop the struggling Skrewt from pulling me away. Now that it had finished its food it was excited and energised, ready to fight the snarling caged creature.
"I can see a lover of magical creatures from miles away, Ella, and yeh have a real talent with them. Just like Charlie boy."
Warmth surged through me accompanied with a sense of nostalgia, as if I was ten years old again, arriving home with a new test I had passed, Bill and Nanny Anne's proud smiles shining down on me. Hagrid had always reminded me of Bill, with his large beard, protruding belly, Scottish brogue and twinkling eyes. Bill had a harder edge, a shell, almost, which you had to break through to get to the mushiness underneath, whereas Hagrid was all sugary sweet and laughter.
It had been a few weeks since Abigail's message and thoughts of my old carers had been entering my mind consistently since. The smallest things would trigger a memory: the smells from dinner reminded me of my cooking lessons with Nanny Anne, having to stand on a chair to see into the saucepan on the stove; the twins throwing sweets through the air, similar to the ones Bill brought home from the shop. Every sense continued to be stimulated and memories flooded freely. Hogwarts kitchen felt alien all of a sudden and the spot I secured by the fireplace no longer comforted me.
What would they have wanted me to have done? I had never been sure what career path to choose, always fascinated by different things: history, writing and animals being the foremost interests. Bill had teased that I could have been a chef if only it were not for the stress of the hectic kitchens and strict mentors. Funny how I now worked in a kitchen, in the perfect environment without the roughly yelled orders and abrasive cursing.
A harsh tug brought me back to reality, and the Skrewt charged for the cage, pulling me along. I fell on my knee, the skin scraping along the floor with a burn.
"Oh, shit!" I yelled, my arm burning, feeling as if it were about to be pulled out from the socket.
"Ok, tha's enough, Skrewty," Hagrid boomed, taking the leash out of my hand and forcing the Skrewt into the other cage. "You alrigh', Ella?"
"Yeah, fine," I nodded, stretching out my arm and rolling my shoulder.
Slamming the cage door shut, he clapped his hands and ruffled my hair. "Tha's great work, Ella, they're ready for the task now. All tha's left is settin' up the maze." His eyes widened. "Oh, should not have said tha', I should not have said tha'."
"Third task?" my arm stopped halfway up in its windmill spin. "You mean to say that that beast is going to be used in the third task? Where they can possibly kill the contenders? And Dumbledore is allowing this! What maze?"
Large hands were held up in that damn calming motion again. "Now, now, Ella, jus'…forget I said anythin'. It was nothin' about nothin'." He nodded, as if assuring himself his words had been wiped from my memory. His hands fell to his sides and he peered out to the grounds as the bell for the end of classes went off. "Yeh should be goin' now. Don't yeh got a boyfrien' teh see?"
"Why, yes," I grinned. "I have lots to tell Fred, what with him being good friends with one of the people who is in danger of dying from Skrewts. Thanks for that Hagrid," I waved and turned, ready to leave when his voice called me back.
"Yeh…yeh wouldn' tell Fred anythin', would yeh?"
I had to think about that. Of course I wanted to tell Fred, I didn't see any danger in telling him the little tid-bit of information Hagrid had let loose. But if news of the third task happened to get around the school then Hagrid's position was sure to be under threat. I couldn't do that to him. Not to the sugary sweet giant of candy floss.
"'Course not, Hagrid, I was just teasing," I said.
He smiled, his teeth gleaming through the bush on his face.
"Yeh know tha' can be altered to yer size?" he indicated to the Gryffindor robe drowning me, somehow still retaining Fred's scent.
"I know." I hesitated on my next question. "Hagrid, do you think you could get in touch with Charlie? I'd like to know a bit more about his dragon work."
He nodded. "O' 'course! Yeh be good now, Ella! Don' let tha' boyfrien' of yer's warp yer head."
I laughed, going back up the path to the castle. A figure stood leaning against the wall as I entered the Entrance Hall, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Hello," he drawled as I stepped in front of him. He unfolded his arms and wrapped them around my waist, pulling me in closer to him.
"Hi. Fancy seeing you here," I said, my hands resting on his shoulders.
"Well, I just finished a fantastically mundane Charms lesson and on my way to the kitchen for a little afternoon snack, I recalled my girlfriend saying she had a lesson with Hagrid. So, being the lovely, amazing, most handsomest –"
"Being handsome has nothing to do with what you're saying."
"– most handsomest," he offered a pinch to my waist, "and considerate boyfriend, I thought I'd wait for her. Not sure if that was the best idea, now, seeing as she's poking fun."
"Aw, poor baby," I pressed a light kiss to his chin.
"Mmm, you missed," he smirked, lowering his face inches from mine, his sweet peppermint breath blowing on my face.
"I don't think so."
"Ouch. That hurts, love. I'm going to need some loving to heal that one." He ducked down and his lips met mine for the faintest touch before I turned away, his lips sliding along my neck. It was an uncomfortable position: on the tip of my toes, head tilted back with Fred leaning over me, his lips attached to my neck. I felt sorely stretched and let out a laugh as his wet tongue and lips blew a raspberry on my skin.
"Fred! That's disgusting," he pulled his face away and stroked his lingering spit with his thumb. It was incredible how contented the weeks had made us, comforted with the personal interactions associated with typical couples. Our relationship was like a new pair of shoes, having an initial breaking in period before the perfected moulding.
"Come off it, you've had worse." We strolled down to the kitchen, his arm slung around my shoulder and mine around his waist once I'd wiped my neck clean.
"Uh, don't remind me," I scowled, remembering the previous week when he and George were chewing gum, blowing bubbles to enormous sizes. I had sat too close to them, realising it too late as Fred's gum burst on my face. A shudder tingled my bones.
"Well, I must say, green is most definitely your colour," he commented.
"I'm glad you think so. Where's George?"
"You see, dearest Ella, we may be twins, but if you hadn't noticed, we're not conjoined. Although, there was one time when we were little where we tried to magic ourselves together. George's crying alerted mum, she was mad about the scar the burn formed. We tried again, of course, only this time with glue. Mum was super cautious after that. Oh – but she forgot for a while, until the Unbreakable Vow incident."
"I don't want to know."
"Answering your question, George went back to the common room with Lee, something about Katie and her mystery boyfriend." The giggling pear popped into a doorknob and we entered the kitchen.
Dropping my satchel on the floor, I rubbed my shoulder briefly, aching from the weight of heavy books, and grabbed an apple before joining Fred on the plush chair.
"What mystery boyfriend?"
"That's the whole thing about it being a mystery – we don't know," he said, snatching the apple and taking a large bite.
"Has she let anything on? What House he's in? Year?"
"That's the tricky bit, he doesn't come to school. Angelina and Alicia seem to know who he is, they're always throwing around secret smiles and winks. And they don't bug her about it. Girls do that when they want to know something, don't they?"
My eyes rolled on their own accord. "I don't know, Fred, not all girls are the same, if you hadn't noticed. Oh - he might be the guy she was telling us about owling and meeting in Hogsmeade. Have you finally grown out of preferring green apples? You seem to be perfectly happy eating mine."
"Meh, can't complain. I'm not about to get up to get another one," he stretched his arms above his head and flung the apple core backwards. It thumped on a hard surface, and a glass shattered seconds later. His eyes widened. "That wasn't me. Peeves!"
"Oh, shut it," I swatted his chest. His arm around my shoulder pulled me onto him and he burrowed his face in my neck.
"Mmm, you always smell nice. Like...like vanilla and roses. Sometimes chicken."
"That's nice. Look, I have revision to do, my first exam is in three weeks."
"But you've just finished class!" he whined.
"Fred, I need to pass," I sighed, feeling his mouth begin their pleasurable torture. Who knew that such a trivial seeming part of the human anatomy could invoke such bliss? "Go and bug Katie about mystery lover."
"I'd rather bug you," he murmured.
His mouth kissed their way to my lips and I gave up the struggle, allowing these few moments to completely immerse myself into the kiss. We didn't have many moments to ourselves; George often joined us, bouncing ideas about their situation with Bagman off Fred, or to work on their products. Lee would accompany us as well, adamant not to spend more time with the girls as they tended to coerce him into feminine activities without his masculine backup. Several times he had joined us after his girl time, his dreadlocks braided with ribbons and flowery bands.
Hands dove into my messy hair and gripped it from the base, urging my head to tilt this way and that, pulling me into him more, sharing his minted breath. Senses frenzied and colours burst behind my eyelids, a kaleidoscope of explosions and fireworks from his hot mouth and roaming hands. It was a feeling of chocolate and strawberries, sweet and dark.
Eventually, our tight holds relaxed and our lips relinquished their lock. Our breath interspersed in the synapse between us. Without breaking our gaze, his hands lifted me from my hips and supported me on his lap. My knee grazed along his thigh and I winced.
"Ow!" I cried, my hand instinctively flying to the sore skin.
"Move your hand, let me see," Fred gently removed my hand from over my knee and inspected my jeans, now ripped with red painting the edges. "You're bleeding. How did you manage that?"
"Must've happened when I fell over from the Skrewt. Bloody beast."
"So much for you being saviour of all creatures," Fred chuckled. "I think you should go see Poppy, get that sorted out."
"Can't you do it?"
"Sorry, love, George is the one you go to when you need healing charms." I groaned, flopping back. "Come on, let's go, can't have you walking around a bloody mess all day." With a pat on the thigh, Fred jumped up, pulling me up with him and lugging me out of the kitchen.
"Fred, I'm hungry!"
"Then you should've eaten something."
"Oi! Don't give me that, mister. You ate my apple."
"If it helps it was shite."
Few groups of students stood around in the corridors and some made their way to the grounds, wanting to enjoy the spring sun before the panic of exams loomed over their heads. Walking with Fred Weasley garnered me attention wherever I went. I was the unknown girl who everyone was curious of, wanting to know who had caught the eye of the famous prankster twin. Several times I noticed girls eyeing me, sneering at what was presented before them. At meals I was treated invisible as they strode up to Fred, trailing their fingers along his face and neck, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. He never reciprocated, not verbally to them, but he would push them away and put his arm around me. No official admittance to a relationship, no gentle let downs. He simply let them believe what they wanted but made it certain that he was taken without letting on who I was.
I became the girl in the spotlight; girls wanted to know me to ridicule me – although they managed well in doing so without knowing me – and boys stared to see what the big fuss was. My presence at Hogwarts became comparable to an exotic animal in a zoo, one that no one knew even existed but were intrigued by.
A few days ago on our way to the Gryffindor common room we had passed a group of seventh year girls, three of them, all intimidating in their flawlessness. Fred had mimicked professors throughout the journey and by that time I was leaning on him from the pain in my ribs produced from intense laughter. Fred had shifted, probably noticing the girls, but he ignored them and continued his impersonations, moving on to Professor Snape.
"Hi, Fred," one of the girls had said upon seeing us near. She stood straighter, neatened her robes and smiled. "How have you been?"
"Busy, Melissa," he said, his eyes not even glancing to the short girl.
"Too busy for a hello?" she stepped in front of him, ceasing us from carrying on.
He sighed loudly. "Hello."
"Now, that's not how we used to say hello, was it?"
Fred jumped to the side, avoiding her hand reaching out to him. "Shove off, Melissa."
My hand was engulfed by heat and was squeezed tightly. I pushed myself into his side, hoping I would be hidden from view. The thumping of my ribs dulled down.
Melissa's eyes flared as they fixed on me. "Babysitting, are we, Fred?"
I had found that statement rather amusing seeing as she was shorter than me. Much shorter. But her face was more mature and angled, high cheekbones and full lips casting her as an enticing woman as opposed to a teenager.
"Melissa, not now. Go suck on Justin, or whoever it is you're seeing," Fred growled.
"I'm not seeing anyone," she purred, returning her attention to Fred. A smirk morphed on her lips, showing small straight teeth that were slightly stained. "Care to help me out with that?"
"Not even in my worst nightmare," he had punctuated in her face. He grinned at her insulted expression and swaggered past. I kept my head down as I followed, but found myself being on the receiving end of her glare.
It was a constant recurrence. Fred was adept at ignoring it much to my surprise but would always rescind their comments from my mind. He as good at that, making me lose conscious thought. It was both a delicious pleasure and a beautiful curse, especially with my first exams at Hogwarts just a stretch away.
We carried on to the Hospital Wing, Fred half dragging me as my leg grew numb. Madam Pomfrey was fiddling with bottles and cloths as we entered, closed curtains sheltering two beds and their occupants at the end of the room.
"Poppy!" Fred called jovially, as always was his greeting upon arrival at the Infirmary. The nurse sighed at Fred's voice and approached us.
"Mr Weasley. Ella," her tight, thin lips twitched in a barely there smile as she said my name. "I'm seeing far too much of you lately. What's the issue this time?"
Lately, the twins had been getting far too involved with experimenting their products, attempts at altering them turning out worse than they could have imagined, resulting in almost daily visits to Madam Pomfrey. I usually accompanied them, glad to have a distraction in the form of a vociferous nurse against the twins; it made more great entertainment. The twins were adamant she gave them foul potions and remedies purposely as a way to soothe the pain of having to serve them.
"It's me, Madam Pomfrey," I said, and her glare softened somewhat. "I scraped my knee outside when I was with Hagrid."
She tutted, not expecting anything else from time with the groundskeeper and gestured me to a bed. Flicking her wand, a tray flew to the bedside table. It had a bottle of potion, a bowl of water and a gauze. The hole in my jeans only showed a cut with some blood. She rolled the bottom of my jeans up, struggling to get it over my knee. I winced at the pressure.
"You're going to have to take these off," she stood back and pulled the curtain around the bed. Fred grinned at me, wiggling his eyebrows, his arms crossed until a hand emerged from around the drape and yanked Fred out.
I quickly removed my jeans, the process taking longer due to my hobbling, and I used the overly long robe to cover my thighs as I seated myself again, calling for Madam Pomfrey.
"Hmm, it's cut in three places. How in Elvendork's name did you manage this?"
Fred made a face behind her back, mouthing Elvendork as if it was bitter coffee.
"I was walking a Blast-Ended Skrewt and –"
"I see," she said, shaking her head. Dipping a cloth in the bowl of water, she rubbed it on my knee, clearing the blood away and leaving behind a cool sting. Placing them back in the tray, she grabbed the potion, frowning at the label. "I thought I had the diluted…never mind," she muttered. "Mr Weasley, I believe you owe me a potion that reduces swelling."
"Poppy! What are you implying?" Fred gasped. "Surely not that I stole from you?"
Her small eyes blinked up at him. "Don't take me for a fool, Weasley. I will excuse it as an accident and not tell Dumbledore if you get it back to me within ten minutes. Not a second later."
He nodded and rushed out. Madam Pomfrey, although she would never admit it, had something of a soft spot for the twins. They were regulars in her Infirmary, had been since their first year. She clucked her tongue behind him and disappeared into her office.
I reclined back on the bed, rubbing my tired eyes. My sleep was often disturbed by late night studying, my first exam being History of Magic was just around the corner, before the rest of the school's exams. They spanned for over a month and I didn't feel near enough ready.
Dates and ancient names printed behind my blurred eyelids amongst the backdrop of deep purple and green spheres. A shuffle from another bed, and then a voice.
"Madam Pomfrey?"
A familiar boy was looking through the parting in his curtain. His skin was horridly pale, clashing magnificently with his bronze hair.
"She's gone into her office," I said.
"Oh, thanks," he smiled.
I closed my eyes again, returning to my thoughts, but the boy spoke again.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you."
His curtains were open now and he was facing me on his bed.
"Not many people do," I said. Then his name popped into my head. "You're Cedric."
"Yes, a lot of people seem to know me," he chuckled. "I guess it comes with being in the tournament."
"What are you doing here?" I asked, seeing nothing wrong with him physically.
Cedric scratched the top of his head. "I, er…promise you won't tell anyone?"
"Ok?"
"I had a bit of a panic and needed a calming draught," he admitted, keeping his eyes down.
"For the third task?"
"Yeah. Rumours and speculations are going around about what it could be. Someone mentioned Dementors, and I kind of took it badly after what happened last year."
I frowned, unaware of what he was talking about, but decided not to look stupid and ask. I would ask the twins about it later. And then Hagrid's words came back to me. Cedric had some colour back in his cheeks, a light pink from the warmth of the Hospital Wing.
"I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't dare bring in Dementors. Maybe…" I thought about how I could help ease his worries without giving anything away; I was not going to betray Hagrid's trust. "Maybe you should think closer to school."
His eyes narrowed. "Do you know something?"
I shook my head before he had even finished and cursed myself for being obvious. However, he didn't seem to mind.
"Alright then. No Dementors. I guess I can breathe properly."
"I'm sure you'll be fine; you've been great so far." It felt odd, having an actual conversation with someone other than the Gryffindors. No one in any of the other Houses approached me. The initial feeling of suspicion cleared away and my discomfort dissolved. Cedric seemed wonderful. "There's still plenty of time until the task."
"Thanks. Tied in first is…it's something. I didn't catch your name."
"Ella," I answered, taking his outstretched hand. "Ella Wood."
"Any chance of relation to Oliver –"
"Yes. He's my cousin," I said.
"I would never have guessed."
Madam Pomfrey arrived back with quick feet with a glass in hand. She noticed Cedric and hurried over to him first, checking him over with her wand.
"Much better. You're free to leave now, Mr Diggory. Blasted Triwizard Tournament. It's killed people before, who's to say it won't this time, putting students in danger, of age or not is irrelevant. You'd think students dying in the past would get the message across," she rambled, kneeling before me again.
Cedric's face paled at the mention of the possibility of dying, a new worry to fret about.
"You'll be great, Cedric," I called out, feeling a need to reassure him. Offering him a small smile, I pointed down to Poppy who was immersed in dabbing my knee with the cold liquid, and circled my finger on the side of my head.
"Thanks," he grinned. "I'll see you around?"
I nodded at his retreating form and hissed at the harsh sting. Madam Pomfrey informed me of the need to dilute my potion, filling in the silence as she worked on healing the wounds. The reaction of raw chemicals and its strength to squibs was unknown in certain cases. Apparently, all squib blood varied in terms of its degree of tolerance to magic and herbs, and therefore we had to be treated carefully. The potions she had given me previously all had a low dosage of the actual potion itself, and each time she decreased the dilution, exposing my blood to more of the potion. Any irritation was to be confessed immediately, she warned, otherwise the effects could spiral into dangerous and harm me internally. All the information made me feel like a case study.
Fred arrived just as Madam Pomfrey shut the door to her office, put an almost empty bottle on the table and escorted me to the common room.
The scent of spices filled the kitchen, billowing out of the oven with the stream of steam.
"Five more minutes," I said aloud, closing the oven again and turning to the vegetables in the pot of boiling water.
"Hurry up, I'm starved!"
I glared at Fred and waved the spoon at him. "Shut it, Weasley. I don't see you being productive, lazy sod."
"I'm staying out of your way. Isn't that what you wanted?" he smirked, leaning his chin on his fists.
I couldn't fault him for that, I had indeed demanded him to steer clear of any trouble when I was cooking with the house elves. He had a reputation for poking fingers into the food and taking bites out of everything. Potions and Ancient Runes finished, I was able to return to aiding the elves with dinner.
"Thought about Oliver's letter yet?" he asked, peeling a banana and biting into it.
I shook my head. Oliver's letter had arrived the previous day, updating me with news of his Quidditch training and his family. He had repeated his offer for me to stay with his family once school was over, including a long list of advantages. Thoughts of spending time with them, with the remainder of Bill's real family, was tempting. But I couldn't bring myself to reply, for I didn't know how to turn him down gently. His mother, Eleanor, had written a little message at the bottom of the parchment, her words full of excitement and hope at the possibility of meeting me. My heart swelled at her pleasantness, and guilt ate me up at the thought of disappointing her,
But Ottery St. Catchpole was my home, the vessel that connected me to Nanny Anne and Bill where memories ghosted at every corner. The threat of Yaxley was nothing compared to my need to stay in my house. He wouldn't scare me away.
Once the chicken was cooked to perfection, I took it out of the oven and left it to the hands of the house elves and went to the Great Hall with Fred.
Passing the Hufflepuff table, I saw Cedric and smiled. He returned it, and, eyeing my hand in Fred's, winked.
"Flirting with the enemy! What treachery!" George exclaimed as we sat opposite him.
"That was not flirting, I smiled!" I defended as both he and Fred quirked an eyebrow at me.
"Oi, Fred, watch her before she jumps Cedric. We can't have another one drooling over Diggory," George said.
"I'm not going to jump anyone."
They both ignored me.
"Don't worry, dear brother, she'd be mad to join the Diggory fan club," Fred said. Food appeared on the table and they jumped to grab a bit of everything.
"You never know, if she's on a first name basis with the walking hair advert she's not immune to his hypnotism."
"Hypnotism," I scoffed.
"I'll be sure to keep her occupied," Fred winked.
"Oh, dear God why am I stuck with insufferable idiots," I groaned, covering my face with my hands.
"You love us," the chimed simultaneously, mouths stuffed with chicken.
A beat in my chest, almost as if my heart skipped in understanding.