Surviving in Harmony

Chapter Fifteen | Ottery St. Catchpole, December 2000

Chapter Fifteen

Ottery St. Catchpole, December 2000

 

            Within the walls of Hester House, in his old bedroom, still full of books that wouldn’t fit into his tiny apartment, Andrew waited to leave for Church. He wasn’t going to see a sermon, or get guidance – he was going to marry Amara.

The house was mostly empty, the downstairs decorated to the nines for the reception after. All things magic had been put away or hidden under charms; every magic guest had been warned that half the party would be Muggle.

Wandering down the hall, Andrew found himself in the music room, practically the only place not wreathed in purple flowers and some sort of green. Andrew had taken very little part in planning his own wedding – could the cake be purple? Sure! Could he wear a purple tie? Of course! Was it alright that they move almost every piece of furniture out of the main floor? Andrew couldn’t say no, didn’t want to!

As long as Amara was happy and having fun, Andrew was happy and having fun. He would sit quietly through every meeting, every cake tasting and flower decision. He was the perfect fiancée.

The deep red walls of the music room stretched high, arching like a cathedral, windows towering above him – letting in the light that was going to start fading soon. Sitting himself at the grand piano, he ran his fingers over the keys his great grandmother had played, that Hazel had played – that Remus had lovingly polished and taken care of for many, many years.

“I wish you were here.” He whispered, playing a light, airy note. “Mamma, Remus – I wish you were here so badly.” He closed his eyes, pressing down on the same keys Remus had played so many times, with anger and happiness, rage and pleasure. The day Andrew was born he had sat down and composed a tune that Andrew knew well, had wrote it just for him – slow and pretty, thoughtful and peaceful.

Andrew knew just what Remus would say, or thought he did – something along the lines of:

“This is important, Andy. You will be happy, and you will be sad – but you and Amara will always have this day together, and that is what will get you through the screaming fights and money and waking up at three in the morning to feed the children you two will cherish.”

He would smile, probably ruffle Andrew’s hair. He would end with a ‘I love you’ and a firm hug. He would smile sheepishly, surprised at the wisdom coming out of his mouth – he’d leave quietly, giving Andrew a few minutes to think on his own. Andrew missed Remus so much.

And Hazel – his Mamma would give him a quiet, loving hug, she would go on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and dust off the shoulders of his suit jacket. “You look very handsome,” she’d probably say, a little choked up. “Amara is very lucky.” She might tack on at the end, and Andrew knew – he knew deep down, somewhere between his throat and his heart – that Hazel would cover her scars with magic so she could wear something pretty and sleeveless.

Just as Andrew knew she would cover them, he knew Remus – even though he was married – would take her quietly to the side and kiss the places he knew by heart that the scars ran deepest. His lips would leave a mark much stronger than the ones Voldemort had left.