I live! I'm so sorry everyone, I did NOT plan to take such a long time to post this! If I'm honest, I had this chapter written for over a year. Then I came to post it about two weeks after I posted last chapter and realised that a lot of it no longer fit the story the way it would have a year ago. I rearranged it and switched things and still couldn't make it work to the point where I debated deleting it completely and just moving on to the next chapter (which i had only the bare bones of).
I eventually decided not to do this because I had written this chapter so long ago and it was such a clear image then (I write the scenes of a story out of order most times), and so instead I put it down and worked on other stuff (Sirius POV, my beloved) before coming back to it. considering how much I struggled with it, I'm quite happy with the result.
If anyone is well-versed in music theory, please be gentle. I only ever studied music theory in my native language, since you don't really need to know the terms in other languages if you're just reading music sheet, and I haven't done a group rehearsal since moving to England, so if I got the term wrong is because i did a very quick google search and that was it, since it was only for like a sentence in a paragraph. I'm only telling you because someone called me out on the twins not being able to be 'identical' since they're a boy and a girl and that annoyed me, since it was purposeful-as if a 16 year old witch would know that. Anywho, i digress...
Also I got promoted at work which meant some big changes and extra responsibilities, which halved the energy I could give some hobbies. On the other hand, I've had a blast with Dragon age the veilguard, idc what the clock app says about it it's super fun.
Shout out to CallumEngel who started following this story last week and made me realise some people are still finding and reading this story even if they're doing so quietly. I wouldn't have posted if it hadn't been for that email notification.
ALL THE THREADS OF FATE
PART II
OUT OF THE WOODS
XVII.
As the leaves outside shifted from green to the sunset of autumn, my heart grew hollow and heavy.
My little sister Cressida often complained that I saw the sad in everything, and I supposed she wasn't wrong. It wasn't that I was pessimistic, exactly, I hoped just as much as the next person, and strove for success with as much belief that it was attainable as enthusiasm. I had, however, been born with a certain melancholia that never abated, a deep-seated knowledge that anything and everything could be taken away.
This worsened, without fail, every October.
That dull ache I could never fully forget sharpened to a cut. My sleep grew haunted once more by scenes skewed by doom. Some were of a happier persuasion, most were of war and suffering, malice for hatred's sake. It was a theatre I could only escape by forcing myself awake and remaining so. A tactic that stopped working before long.
Soon, I whiled away my time alone hostage to far away images involving people I had never met and places I'd never seen. I overheard conversations that hadn't happened yet—were happening? Had happened? It was becoming more and more difficult to tell.
The morning after my conversation with Sirius—when we'd agreed once and for all that we would never work again until something gave—I sat in the middle of the stone circle for 90 minutes, locked in a confusing supercut of flashing images that made no sense even when I put them in writing. Vaughn had shaken me out of it, confused to have found me outside surrounded by scraps of parchment so early in the morning. He'd made no mention of it, had merely asked me to bring a cloak next time. I'd left with an armful of paper, ink stains on my fingers, and an oily coat against my very soul—the realisation that despite my not understanding them, those images were inevitable.
All this I could hide and was rather adept at it. The worst of it was what I couldn't. The moments that made my friends pause and think.
"Madame Locke's have that," I told Lily, idly swiping a page on the novel I was reading. It was not a very good one, but it passed the time. "Just send them your measurements."
"What?"
I looked up to three pairs of eyes staring at me, dumbfounded.
It was that same afternoon, the scraps of parchment weighted heavy inside my satchel, so I thought perhaps it'd be best to spend as little time alone as I could manage. I'd joined Dorcas, Lily, and Remus by the fire, had spent most of the time listening to them chatter while I read. While this was the first time I joined the conversation, I didn't see why my reply would gain such confusion.
"The dress you want for Slughorn's party." I clarified. "Madame Locke's have a similar design. If you owl them with your measurements, I'm sure Della will adjust it perfectly. You can either buy it or rent it."
Lily blinked at me. "Right. How do you know what dress I want?"
"You just said."
"No," said Lily. "I didn't."
It was my turn to be confused.
"Yes, you—you asked." My fingers tightened around the book. "You wondered if it was worth spending so much on something you'd probably never wear again, that's why I said you can rent."
Lily blinked at me repeatedly before her eyes went very wide, lips parted on a gasp. She shot Remus and Dorcas a peeved look wasted in its subtleness by the fact that she was right in front of me and there was little hiding it.
"No," said Dorcas in a voice I'd seldom heard before. "She didn't."
Oh.
Oh, no.
"I was thinking about it," Lily admitted, pearly teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. "How—are you practicing Legilimency?"
"No!" I exclaimed, just as horrified by the demand as she was the idea that I'd been rooting around her head. "I wasn't—I swear I clearly heard you—I don't know Legilimency."
Lily scowled. "But you were reading about it yesterday."
She said it in a tone even more accusing than before.
I had been reading about Legilimency yesterday. My father was adept at all mind magic, though he'd only ever shown me the barebones of latent Occlumency, and I'd grown curious to see how the practices differed. Whatever this was, it wasn't that. I'd barely understood the text.
"I can't practice it." I dropped my book, showing them my empty hands. "I'm not even holding my wand. I thought I heard you."
Though still bewildered, Lily appeared satisfied. Conversation did not continue, though. We sat in awkward silence, thick with contemplation. I'd grown so hot you could cook an egg on my forehead.
"Meredith." Remus shifted on the rug, plopped an elbow on the coffee table. "Are you well?"
"Fine."
I just had to make it to Sirius's birthday. Samhain would have passed; a cycle closed, and a new one begun. November would be better. Once autumn ended and winter began everything would slowly go back to normal. Or whatever was normal to me.
Fabian was a respite. Even when all we had was correspondence, it was so easy. I remembered why I liked him, the giddiness that had been all-encompassing through the summer.
Most importantly, I liked the girl I was with him; pretty, confident, and witty. She slept little because she was an early bird, not because of the horrors. She gazed into the distance and trailed off mid-thought because she was a whimsical daydreamer, not because of the horrors. No one shared worried looks behind her shoulder; her parents couldn't be prouder. I wanted to always be that girl, always, even if she was a little out of touch with the real world.
At least the dark circles made for a killer smoky eye. They added a certain allure to my winged eyeliner.
This morning, as I reluctantly wished Marlene a happy birthday for politeness' sake, I had expected she demand I did not attend her party. Instead, she had levelled one of her trademark challenging looks at me, dripping with superiority, and I realised she felt no need to make such a demand because she expected me to make the choice on my own.
I had been planning not to attend. But to do so now would have been to admit something, to give her another point in this weird competition we'd found ourselves in. I could not afford it; the scoreboard was heavily unbalanced and not to my advantage.
So I changed my outfit—Marlene's had been all boob, because she had impressive enough assets to show off, so to wear the cute fringed bralette I'd planned would have been comparison suicide. I may not have been flat-chested, but that was still one department I could not compete against her.
I swapped the bralette for a minidress so short I hoped my mother never found out I owned it. It was black with an iridescence reminiscent of an ink spill, and it moved like water over skin. The dress came with a little crinkled cape of the same pearlescent black, see-through as it fell to mid-thigh and caught the light with each movement. My heels were high enough they needed a cushioning charm, but the overall look was a success.
With the smoky eye and the lipstick and the chunky earrings, I was a dream of black mother of pearl, all blue-green-grey and strategically mussed hair.
Satisfied, I made my way to the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor, right below the attics.
Music had been what drew Marlene, Mary, and I together. I figured if we loved the same thing, we had to be friends. It didn't quite work with Mary; or with Marlene, though that took longer to make itself known. I should have known sooner. Even our love for music was different.
Mary loved music because it made her want to move. She lived for the rhythm of it, how she could twirl and sway and forget awhile. She held no interest for the theory of it, had no curiosity towards any instrument, and couldn't hold a tune to save a life, regardless of how she could steal a dancefloor.
I loved music because it was solace. I had, for as long as I could remember, yearned to understand it. I cared for its intricacies, the minutiae of feeling one could infuse into each chord. To practice another's masterpiece was to discover a connection to another person, the fierce knowledge that I was not alone. To write my own was the only way I could explain what words could not express.
Marlene loved music for what it did to her image. She craved the applause, lived for the awed whispers when she sustained an impressively long note. She had the lungs to match, even if she sometimes lacked the consistency.
Music was a private thing for me; Marlene wanted nothing more but to share it.
Because of this, her birthday was always a variation of the same theme: showing off her talents.
This year, she'd transformed the room with bright neon lights. Clusters of ottomans and large cushions surrounded low coffee tables that had clearly been Transfigured from something else—the colour of a few of them was in a weird gradient, reddish wood mixed with silver, others held a strange spongey texture—and there was enough alcohol to supply a village pub. She'd gotten snacks, too, crisps and chocolate oranges mostly, but no cake. Marlene hated cake.
In the centre of the room sat the main attraction. A small stage alit with floating lights of blue fire held a makeshift microphone, enchanted not just to enhance voice but to produce floating lyrics of whatever song played. Marlene took karaoke very seriously. I was pretty sure she'd started practicing the enchantment the moment we exited our first ever Charms lesson back in First.
Peter and Remus butchered their way through a The Sphynx song. A pity; the original was one of my favourites. Still, one had to give credit where credit was due. I would have never thought Peter could reach such high… squeaking would be the closest thing to it, but still, it was impressive.
Lily and Derek serenated each other with a song I had never heard before, so sticky sweet and flowery in its many metaphors for sex that I cringed with second-hand embarrassment.
James and Sirius dragged Remus and Peter up for another rendition of The Sphynx. This time, a reverie, a song that managed to be electric and ethereal in the same breath, and such a terrible choice for karaoke without practice. Though where Peter and Remus had at least tried with their previous song, it didn't look like any of the four boys were interested in impressing anyone with this particular performance. The only effort went into who could scream-sing the loudest.
Not all of it was bad, of course. Marlene was well-known and well-liked, so the room was brimming with people. Of which I'd say a quarter of them had some degree of music ability. There wasn't much to do in Hogwarts other than join at least a couple extracurriculars and Professor Flitwick's music lessons were among the most stress-free of the lot. Even swimming carried the danger of the giant squid getting too eager for company.
It was during one such good performance—I didn't know the boy by name, but I was pretty sure he was a Hufflepuff—that I gained two extra shadows.
"What are you doing here?"
Freyr shrugged at my question, but Addie gave me the kind of gentle smile she often reserved for Cressida.
"We like music." Freyr provided.
"You don't like Marlene."
"No," Addie said. "We like you."
"I'm fine," was my retort. Instinctual, it was out of my mouth before I'd even decided.
Whenever something bad happens you isolate yourself. Unbidden, I looked to where Sirius was to the left of the little stage, offering up a chocolate orange in his palm to Marlene. Hanging from his elbow, she seemed more focused on singing along to the Hufflepuff than the sweet.
My brother snorted. "Is that why you're standing here alone by the refreshments?"
"And wearing that?" added Addie.
I shrugged.
It hadn't been a conscious decision. Despite what they thought, I really was fine. Kind of. I was weary and melancholy, but little of it had to do with Marlene and how she'd flushed our friendship of six years down the toilet like a pile of shit too big to remove with a single pull of the chain.
"I look good," I said, in case they would find the silence concerning.
Addie laughed, but it was an unimpressed type of laugh.
"You look cold." Freyr disagreed. "I dislike it."
"I didn't wear it for you."
Freyr and Addie shared an uneasy look at that. I shifted in place, feeling caught.
"Chocolate apple?" I offered my brother. "There aren't many. Best get one before they run out."
His expression spelled out he knew exactly what I was doing, yet he still reached over me to pluck a chocolate apple from the tray beside us. He unwrapped the yuletide-red foil with care, smoothing it across his palm until the chocolate slices balanced precariously on his hand, and waited until both Addie and I had taken a slice to eat one himself.
Addie chewed slowly over her piece. "Never could decide whether I like these things or not."
I agreed. The bitterness of the dark chocolate mixed so strangely with the fragrant sweetness of the apple I could never tell whether I wished to spit it out or reach for another slice. I much preferred it when real slices of apple were covered in salted caramel, or the citrusy kick of a chocolate orange, but my brother loved this particular fruit-infused chocolate. In the time it had taken us to nibble at one single slice, he'd eaten three.
Reaching for another apple, teeth already around the last slice, Freyr gestured towards the stage. Or rather, the old piano that had been pushed against the wall to allow for more space.
"Are you going to give it a go?"
"So Professor Flitwick may gush to Mother about it? No. I've only just managed to stop her bringing Conservatoire brochures to our weekly tea."
Despite this, I gazed at the instrument, abandoned in a corner of Marlene's stage, unimportant as it was to her tastes. Boring, as she described it. Someone had played it recently, though. The tarp over it draped to the floor, a length of it trapped under the key cover, as if it'd been placed back in a hurry. A shame, to leave it so neglected.
"Alright. That's enough." Addie declared. She'd placed her hands on her waist, and the look in her face was unimpressed. "Merry. You have a beautiful talent. Why squander it?"
I took offense to that, actually, since squandering was the least I did.
"I do not squander it." I denied with feeling. "I practice at least four hours a day. Though I suppose I could use a couple extra on the cello."
"But you do not share it anymore." Addie countered.
Once more, she was wrong. I shared it plenty. Daily, in fact. With the paintings in the piano room and attics, who provided rousing applause each time. And Fox, my roommate's cat.
I sighed, defeated.
Freyr had brought up the same argument, not that long ago.
Up on the stage, the Hufflepuff finished his song to whooped praise and tilting laughter. The first of the night to receive any sort of sincere laudation and not mere teasing, or in some cases pity.
Marlene's praise was the loudest of all; she clapped with all her might, jumping up and down with a smile splitting her face. Odd, since her usual response to talent was simmering envy. I stole a glance at Sirius, wondering what his thoughts were on such effusiveness from his girlfriend being directed at someone else, but he was unbothered and chatting with Remus, the two of them eating the chocolate orange Marlene had rejected.
My sister still awaited an answer.
"I can't," I said, and hoped they would interpret everything I would not tell in those two words.
Freyr grew very serious. He took a moment to place the chocolate apple gingerly between us on the table, close enough to reach for were anyone to approach—though that was hardly necessary, since our collective aura was so grim and fatalistic every party-goer gave us a wide berth. He gave me his full attention, stood tall and steady on my left as he was.
"Merry, of course you can." Even though he did not touch me, the words were a hug. "Mother and Father do not dictate your life. They may express their dreams for you, but it doesn't mean you have to follow them. I'm not, and truly they took little issue with it."
I gritted my teeth until my jaw hurt. "Of course you can do what you like. They aren't disappointed in you."
Freyr and Addie shared a surprised look, shocked momentarily into silence. My sister's eyebrows were so high on her forehead they were obscured by her fringe.
"Is that what you think?" she managed at last.
"It's what I know."
Had I not heard my own parents discussing it? Felt my mother's disdain against my own magic? I had disappointed them long ago, and the older I got the more I chipped away at whatever pride they'd once harboured.
"Well, I am very proud myself." Freyr told me after a moment of stunned silence. His voice a little too chirpy, he ruffled my hair gently. "Of you, just in case you're being obtuse. You're brilliant."
I found no words with which to reply. Not because I didn't believe him to be sincere, but because this was simply not how my family dealt with things. Yet more and more often did my brother offer advice that came from a true place, the soft and gentle cradle of affection.
The Hufflepuff dropped from the little stage into a group of his fellows, all quick to offer gentle ribbing, and I watched as Marlene shoved her cup of cheap butterbeer into Sirius's hand before rushing to the stage as if her guests were fighting for a chance behind the microphone.
"For as long as I've had a memory, I've seen you at a piano or holding a little violin with your chin." Addie mentioned as casually as if she were commenting on the weather, for all that the comment made my chest ache. "It seems a shame that no one might remember how great my sister is."
On stage, Marlene began a slow halting song. One that required an immense amount of breath control, all sustained low notes.
"If our parents won't, then know that I will support any path you take, and that includes telling them to lay off you."
She wasn't just saying it. Her words were a promise.
Freyr tapped my shoulder. "Just tell them about the curse-breaking."
Marlene's singing picked up pace and volume, falling and rising through the scale with impressive tonal accuracy. It was not a song I was familiar with, but I could recognise the challenge it posed. With only soft strings and a constant beat as accompaniment, small mistakes couldn't hide behind the music. She must have practiced many times.
"I did." I told them. "Before we came back to school."
Both of them leaned in, but it was Addie who, eyes wide with eagerness, asked, "And?"
I shrugged, a gesture I kept doing more and more often. A defensive tactic more than any real ambivalence.
"Mum—" I stopped and switched tracks, remembering at the last moment that I wasn't supposed to have heard that conversation between our parents. "They were unimpressed. Mother is a world-renowned Curse Breaker, if she says I haven't got what it takes, then what chance do I have?"
My sister's face darkened. She and Freyr did one of those things they had been doing all their lives, where they had an entire argument in silence and solely through the intensity of their eyes. A byproduct of their spending nine months inside our mother's womb with only each other as company.
Whatever decision they arrived at, neither shared. Addie gripped my hand and squeezed so hard my fingertips twinged. I didn't mind.
I'd missed most of Marlene's song, or perhaps it was a short one. She finished with a high vibrato that was a little strained, too localised to the back of her mouth to be sustained for so long, but she faded it out beautifully. When people clapped for her efforts, it was well deserved.
"Come on." Addie urged with the soft smile she usually reserved for when Cressida was upset. "Let's go somewhere else. We can get hot chockie from the kitchens."
I shook my head. "I'm not leaving yet."
A decision I was glad for when Marlene descended the stage and took a moment to throw a gloating look my way. Ridiculous, since I hadn't joined the karaoke, and therefore she hadn't won shit.
"Alright." Freyr agreed.
He snatched another chocolate apple from the tray. Addie perused the table, asking if we'd seen any bubbly around.
If I was staying, so were they.
The novelty of karaoke dwindled soon after. Those less musically inclined were reluctant to brave the stage after those who were more so, particularly after the Hufflepuff's repertoire and Marlene's first song. She'd gone up to sing twice since, but never with quite the same fervour, or perhaps crafted control. Still, they were tough acts to follow.
Things… devolved somewhat. The liquor flowed, strengthened by the sweetness of the chocolate, until Marlene's guests grew contrary—the friends she'd made after years of Professor Flitwick's music lessons huddled together around the stage, taking turns and giggling at those who did not dare even try. There was nothing quite as judgemental as a musical artist that was only half as confident in their own talent as they pretended to be. Threats could come in any shape or form.
The friends she'd made elsewhere drifted to those they knew or mingled if they had the inclination. They soon discovered one thing in common: a dislike for the musical crowd, and a strong resentment towards Marlene's favourite enchantment.
Animosity brewed in pointed glances and jeers. Tension bled into the air until I began to wonder if maybe my siblings had the right of it in suggesting we leave early.
Somewhere to the left of the room, Marlene and Sirius began an argument loud enough to start to bring attention. Someone violently retched into the potted ficus tree by the doors. Dorcas, Mary, and Peter of all people began a drinking game of some sort full of attempts to get the opponent to laugh and so spit out the mouthful of water sitting in their mouths, and the way they started to attract a small audience only added kindling to Marlene and Sirius's argument.
But it wasn't until my brother snorted and said, "that'll be grand," as James downed his butterbeer and strode towards were Lily and Derek where chatting that I decided perhaps someone needed to do something to mellow out the evening. Provide a distraction, as it were, whether it was a good one or not.
Addie and Freyr wanted me to try.
It was only when I stood on the little stage, with Marlene's Music friends giggling behind their hands, that I realised I couldn't sing. I hadn't sung in front of anyone in literal years, hadn't done more than sing along to the odd song here and there in just as long, and this was not the time and place to find out how badly my diaphragm had taken the lack of warm-ups and training. I may not want to partake in this weird competition Marlene insisted we had, but neither was I humble enough to allow my voice to crack or wobble in front of this many people because I'd run out of air sooner than I would have before.
Also, the only lyrics that came to mind was half a verse from Kashmir which really was not karaoke material.
Sirius would have found it funny. He would have sung along, off-key on purpose, disdainful of karaoke being taken seriously.
The tarp covering the piano was heavier than it looked. As I pushed it to one side, it slid to the floor with a long hiss until it flopped over the edge of the stage. The clamour of it sent a nearby group of Music-goers into a cackle. I did my best to ignore them, or the fact that their laughter alerted other people of my presence on stage.
The microphone was too far away to be anything but a hindrance, and if I was doing this, I was doing it well. With a light tap, the tip of my wand lit up a soft white. I aimed it just so, that it may carry the sound through the room but also illuminate the keys better. They were not dusty as I feared, and the sharp scent of a cleansing spell floated about the area, confirming my earlier thought that someone had played it before the party started.
My fingers danced through the keys, scales up and down three octaves in quaver to bring some dexterity back into the tips of my fingers, so cold and stiff they were. It also helped to delude myself that this was a simple exercise, in the privacy of my own music room. I never played anything without a warm-up first.
Regardless of how I esteemed a good warm-up, Marlene's hyena friends found it worthy reason for ridicule. One even called out:
"What? Is that supposed to be impressive?"
I was not doing this for them.
Addie was smiling. Even though all I had done was sit at the piano and warm up, she was smiling. James had abandoned what would have been a terrible idea to gape my way, mouth hanging open and glasses askew. Even Lily, one arm around Derek and beer lifted to her mouth, had paused in conversation to peer curiously at me. I could still hear Marlene ranting at Sirius, but I did not look at them.
I was not doing this for her, either.
The first sounds that rang through the room surprised even me. I had thought to play my favourite arpeggio, something quick, pretty, yet not too advanced. Or perhaps part of the very allegro ma non tanto I'd been practicing with fastidious discipline these past few weeks.
Instead, what flowed out of the piano and into the increasingly quieter room was a haunting. A soft melody that began frail but persevering, as a newborn foal, each step stronger until that first tumble when it quietened. It was no show of great talent, like Rachmaninov would have been. No well-known melody to capture the ear, like Moonlight Sonata would have managed. Indeed, it was not known at all, for no one had ever heard it but me, as I agonised over the music sheet until the quill broke.
Yet when that first tumble came, and the last note held before fading away, the whole room held its breath alongside it, as if willing it to get back up. I waited three beats, counted with a heel that now yearned to be too quick, before breathing in and starting again.
A meme built up from the ground and repeated, once, twice, until it stepped into the background, allowing space for more. A tinkling rise reaching for the stars, dancing to the same beat that ran through every living thing. The unbridled hope of two lovers about to kiss for the first time. An urgency that mixed with nostalgia and pain until it grew frantic, until it crashed like a tsunami against the coast. And all the while that same meme carried on in the background, sometimes heard louder than others, but always there, as certain as the moon.
It was how I saw Time. What had been, what might be, and what could have never been. The certainty that Fate was an inescapable yet mighty ally, who may sometimes be kind, and allow us some Choice. It was the only tool I had at my disposal towards understanding what had happened to me since I was a child; those harrowing Dreams, those flashing images and stolen snippets of Time that arrested me without warning, the gnawing doubt of whether I was simply mad or somewhat Other.
All of that fear and melancholy I had poured into this one piece until the end result was a haunting most grim, yet somehow hopeful, too. And when it ended in a breath-taking incline that suddenly tapered off, just to fade away with that one theme stepping into the spotlight as softly as it had once begun, I could finally breathe. Sixteen Octobers had not taken me. This one wouldn't either.
I stared at the keys, stole one more moment so the conviction of that statement would sink into my bones, and looked up. I had just played for five minutes straight. I expected boredom. I expected a few interested faces amongst those in the crowd who also played the piano.
What I did not expect was to have kept the attention of everyone in the room. Even Marlene, who I had assumed would continue her argument regardless, stood in complete silence.
Someone whooped in the crowd. I knew even before he spoke that it was Freyr.
"That's my sister!" he shouted. "Got that? My sister!"
"Whoo, Merry!"
Addie jumped with one hand outstretched as if I were on a real stage and not a large slab of wood half a foot off the ground.
"Bravissima!" she added with enthusiasm, which really I thought perhaps it was a bit much? considering the setting? And we weren't fifty? My heart warmed all the same.
"Bloody ace, Merry!" James boomed, both hands around his mouth.
Next to him, Remus lifted two fingers to his lips and whistled. Amongst such applause, people had started to slowly clap, sharing looks which turned to smiles and nods. None of Marlene's hyenas laughed anymore; they simply clapped with expressions bordering on sour, like they couldn't quite decide whether they were impressed or jealous.
Professor Flitwick, whom Marlene always invited because he was her favourite professor and she could be a bit of a bootlicker, had appeared beside me, his hands fluttering about, clapping one moment and patting my elbow the next.
"Oh, wonderful, Meredith!" Professor Flitwick, looking quite frankly like he could burst into tears at any moment, gushed. "Simply wonderful! You must return to Music next semester, you must."
"I'll think about it, Professor," I said, and found that I meant it.
"Wonderful!" Professor Flitwick's whiskers quivered with his victorious laugh.
I dared to look at Sirius, his presence a phantom itch I could no longer ignore. He was looking at me already. How many times had he heard me play through the years? Dozens, and yet there he was, smiling until his eyes crinkled, hands hovering together, as if I'd done more than just play the piano, as if I'd accomplished some great thing he was glad to have witnessed. It was more that Freyr's pride, more than James's glee. He saw me, and for the first time it didn't seem like such a terrible thing.
I smiled back so wide my cheeks ached.
On Reviews:
Eennio: Thank you! I'm glad you're liking this story, and I'm glad you love the angst because even though things are getting a little better, they're still super angsty. thank you again for being so patient with my crazy sporadic schedule xx
Allytb420: I'm glad you like them! I always worry how complex their relationship is doesn't translate, I don't want them to be toxic really, I think there's just a lot to consider and to grow, so I'm glad you're enjoying it.