XXXVI. STILL WITH YOU
01:03 ─❁────────── 01:80
◁ Ⅱ ▷
❝The one that brings the end of the day
Someone come and save me, please❞
༻───────────────༺
THE MOON QUIETLY EMBRACED THE night sky, blanketing with stars. The inhabitants of Grimmauld Place were silently asleep... or so they thought anyway.
Lucia woke up with a start, gasping for air as hot tears ran down her cheeks. She panted uncontrollably, hyperventilating, a hand over her heart as she looked around the room, as if trying to convince herself that she wasn't there anymore. That she was safe as she can be.
She wished it would stop already.
She pleaded for the nightmares to stop, but no matter how hard she prayed or beg it was like the universe would never listen to her. The more she drifted to dreamland, the more the nightmares became vivid, and she couldn't understand what she did to deserved such punishment.
Even with the small light resonating from the butterfly nightlight on the floor, the room was dark as the night. Darker than before. She sighed and gazed to the mirror that sat beside the worn-out wooden wardrobe. The small light that could be shone in the room exposed the glistening tear that stained her cheeks, inevitably uncovering the subtle eyebags of hers.
She glared at her reflection, as though waiting for it to slowly dissipate from existence.
But that didn't happen.
Lucia scratched her neck, overwhelmed by itchiness all the sudden. She felt suffocated to the bones, and she wanted nothing more than to stab something into her throat to ease the pain while she attempted to ease the ache on her head. Being in this room itself felt painful.
God, she thought. I need a drink.
Slipping into her bunny slippers, she tugged her nightgown down and snatch a torch out of her purse before slipping out of her room and into the dark, creepy hallway as quiet as she could. The only light that was illuminating the hall was from her torch, albeit not much.
She made sure to not step on any creaky floors, afraid she would wake the others up as she went down the stairs, passing the house-elves heads on the wall — holding her breath in the process as she hit her head continuously, trying to get rid of the pain. The house was ten time scarier when there was no sound or people walking around.
Actually, she may be more scared if there were someone walking around right now...
Finally arriving at the bottom, Lucia noticed light was shining from the little space in between the ajar door of the kitchen.
She stared ahead of her in both confusion and fear. Who in the bloody hell would be up this la — never mind...
Lucia approached the door, peaking through the open space and saw a familiar mop of unruly black hair. "Harry?"
He whipped around at the sound of his name, stunned that there was someone other than himself awake in the middle of the night. He thought he would be alone, but he guessed not when he gazed at the girl that stood idly on the threshold.
Perhaps it was just a spur of the moment, but words couldn't be uttered as his eyes immobilise on her. Maybe he was just exaggerating, but he was sure that he never seen Lucia the way she's like right now before.
The way her hair was not up in its constant coiffure, looking messy all over. How her radiant ebony hair flowed to her shoulders without any effort, like a wind breezing through the summertime air. How her eyes that reminded him of the enthralling night sky that blanketed their side of the world right now, adorned by constellations that simply shimmered as a reflection on the ocean surface. Oddly enough, he couldn't help but see her like the enchanting moon that light up the starry night sky. And as a human, it was hard to not adore a beautiful sight such as that.
Needless to say, his heart sunk slightly when he saw the dark under eyes of the DiFiore girl, looking as though she hadn't had a good night sleep for so long.
"What are you doing up?" he asked almost rudely to her than he intentionally wanted to.
Lucia stared at him momentarily, before merely brushing off the venomous tone that was clearly directed toward her and simply made her way into the pantry. Harry could only watch her, puzzled.
She then came out a few minutes later with a jug of milk in hand. She smiled warmly at him and set down the jug on the table before making her way to the cupboard to retrieve a glass.
Before she came back over, she turned to him. "Milk?"
Harry stared at her for a moment before shrugging as a response.
"Two glass I guess," she mused.
Placing down the two glasses, pouring the milk onto it, Lucia glanced continuously at Harry. "Can't sleep?" she asked, as she pushed the glass in front of him.
"Isn't that obvious?" Harry snapped.
Lucia plopped herself silently across from him before heaving out a sigh. "You didn't need to use that tone with me, Mister," she said in a singsong tone that Harry found incredibly soothing, yet somehow also irritating.
"Well, you should mind your own business," said Harry scathingly.
"I would," she smiled at him, as though challenging him. Harry felt torn between actually melting due to the gesture and wanting to hex her. "But I've been told that I can be quite nosy. Perhaps it's apart of the Gryffindor charm, I reckon."
Harry scowled at her.
"But I reckon you know a thing or two about being nosy, seeing as you are yourself?" Lucia remarked calmly, playing with her glass of milk as she gave Harry a subtle side-eye. "People always did say that you tend to stick your noses up into people's business..." she added.
Touché.
"You're giving me a headache, you know?" he said to her harshly.
However, instead of receiving a rather satisfactory frown, he was given quite an annoying smile. It was clear as crystal that she's purposely trying to push his buttons.
And unfortunately, it was working.
Lucia hummed. "You say that and yet you still want my presence around you, don't you?" A look of confidence crossed her face, painted so arrogantly that it felt unreal that the person across him right now was indeed the Lucia DiFiore he knew. "You enjoy my company, you don't have to be dishonest to yourself," she said, tone dreamy.
"No — I am not," said Harry abrasively.
She tutted, "You like me and the last thing you want is to ruin our friendship. If you didn't like me, you would've gotten rid of me a week ago..."
"I didn't out of pity."
"Maybe it's just me, but it's kind of amusing seeing you trying to act like a villain," she giggled.
"I am not trying to act like —"
"But we both know that you can never be a villain — that is, if something really pushed you to the edge enough. But up until now, villain Harry seem so far away," Lucia glanced up from her milk and stared at him — a smile that was simply yelling satisfactory.
She leaned forward from her seat, face in proximity of his, causing his palms to become clammy. Her faux gentle smile fading into an evident smirk.
"You —" Harry stared at her incredulously, as though she had just grown two head. "I hate —" However his words were short-lived as he jolted by the sudden snap of her fingers.
Harry blinked profusely and all the bitterness he was feeling prior was slowly diminishing, fading away from his body. Whatever Lucia had done, it made him come back to his senses.
He watched her in awe as she leaned back against her chair with a genuine concern expression on her face. "All right there?"
"Y-Yeah..." nodded Harry. He then recalled his inexcusable behaviour towards her. "I-I didn't meant to say that — I'm sorry —"
She laughed. "Harry, I'm not hurt at all."
"But what I said —"
"What you said was merely the negative part of your mind taking over. It wasn't like you were talking wholly as yourself. And even if that is the case, why should I be hurt by that?" she twirled strands of her hair around her finger, crossing her legs, "that would be a bit hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?"
Harry looked down, ashamed. Out of all people he wanted to refrain from snapping, it would be the person that had been there for him when he needed someone the most...
Yet, he had done the exact opposite of what he wanted.
Noticing his crestfallen expression, Lucia heaved out a soft sigh. Before he knew it, he felt her delicate touch around his hand. He glanced at her and was immediately met by her gentle gaze.
"Are you okay?" Lucia asked abruptly.
Harry scoffed unconvincingly. "Of course —"
"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked again, only this time it was much more adamant.
Harry gazed at her.
No, he was not okay even when he told himself he was. His mind was filled with resentment and sorrow. Everything was going downhill for him and all he ever wanted to do was to punch a wall, thrash a room, and commit crime if he could just out of spite to get rid the everlasting growing of turmoil inside his heart. All he could think of was that he should not be alive right now.
That was what he had been thinking all summer. He shouldn't be the one to come out of that alive, it was supposed to be Cedric. Not him. Voldemort wanted him, and yet Cedric was the one that lost his life instead of him.
It wasn't fair.
Life had never been fair to him when they took his parents and left him with the Dursleys instead of a real home, but they should've at least have mercy on him and the people around him. He could handle if it just him, because deep down apart of him felt that he deserved all of the misfortune. But he couldn't say the same for others because they deserved better than him.
Cedric Diggory did not deserve death.
Him, out of all people, did not deserved death.
And that thought had been eating Harry up inside and out. Not once since Cedric Diggory's death has he had a good night sleep, for every time he was to close his eyes, all he could see was the still and dead body of the Hufflepuff that was murdered in front of his eyes by the person who had sold his parents out for his own selfish ways. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the lifeless eyes that stared back at the sky like it was nothing.
However, a part of him was yelling of how he deserved this punishment: To be haunted by that memory forever. The horrible, horrible memory driven by one thing.
Guilt.
"Of course I am, why do people think I'm not?" he snapped, though it was purely unintentional. He didn't mean for that to come out so rudely.
Lucia stared blankly at him.
"I was asking you out of concern because I care for you," she said serenely, chugging down a glass of milk down her throat as her other hand still held tightly on Harry's. "No doubt there are loads of people to be blamed, but you shouldn't be blaming and directing your anger to the people who did nothing wrong."
Silence befell upon the pair before Harry finally spoke once again.
"I'm sorry,"
Lucia didn't expect that truthfully.
She glanced back at him, and her eyes softened at the dulled out sweet hue spring clover-like eyes that she remembered. They were filled with exhaustion, and it told her many things. And unfortunately, one of those things so happens to be what she was dealing right now.
"I'm sorry," said Harry earnestly. "I-I shouldn't have been so rude to you..."
She pursed her lips.
"Yeah," said Lucia, bluntly cool. "You shouldn't have been rude to me,"
Harry was surprised by her words. And as he glanced up at her, he was automatically met by the graceful, soft smile on plump, ruby lips. To think this was the reaction that he was greeted with... he was stunned, and even that would be an understatement as to what he felt. He was ready to be met by cold eyes that could send shivers down his spine, but instead he was met by warmth and consolation that he never thought he ever need.
As his hands stayed gripped arounds hers, she set the glass of milk on the table. He watched as she leaned forward in her chair, pushing away the hair that was covering his face.
"You know, Harry, did anyone ever tell you how dangerous your anger is?" she began softly.
"No one ever needed to," admitted Harry quietly, looking down to the glass of milk in front off him. "A-And it isn't dangerous at all, you're just exaggerating!" he added, in denial.
But Lucia merely ignored him.
"I can't say that it's something you should get rid of, though it would be much more helpful if your learn how to control it,"
"Control my anger? Now you're just kidding with me," he snorted.
"I'm serious, Harry," said Lucia, "the rage you're feeling is like this ticking time bomb that's going to explode at anytime and at any place," she pointed, causing him to look away from her deliberately. Lucia quirked a brow and almost let out a scoff.
"What, so you're just going to scold me about this? I would rather be alone than —"
"Geez, will you let me finish? This is exactly what I'm talking about when I said that you need to learn to control your anger!"
"You said that like it's easy!" he huffed. "After being locked away without any communication with anyone that I trust... up until last week of course, and not to mention I had to 'behave' in front of the Dursleys which is unbearable, wouldn't you unknowingly bottle up your emotions? And don't get me started with the dementors and the Min —"
Lucia sighed, leaning against her hand.
"I can't blame you, can't I?"
"No, of course not," he said smugly.
"Because I would be like that too, huh?" added Lucia.
"Yea tha — hold on, what?" Harry did a double take when he heard that. Did he really heard that right?
"I'm saying that if I were in your place, I would definitely be temperamental too, and there was certainly a time when the only way for me to talk is through my hands." Lucia frowned all of the sudden at a memory before she hastily shook her head, frantic to put it back into the archives of her mind that she would never search through. She breathed out slowly though her nose, "But I guess it's hard to believe that since I've been passive for years now..."
"T-That sounds a bit too far-fetched. You, out of everyone, not being passive?" Harry chuckled as though it was a joke. But, with the way Lucia was looking at him, stern, he was starting to consider that maybe she wasn't... just maybe anyway. "Y-You're not kidding?"
"It's that surprising, is it?" Lucia mused.
"Kind of..." he laughed dryly, but then he couldn't help but ask her: "What made you change?"
What did make her change? Lucia wasn't sure. She leaned back on the chair, looking up at the ceiling.
"Did I ever change? I can't attest to that... it's more like I just started to not care much," she shrugged. "Sure, there were times in the past where I couldn't help bit rebut, but the more I grew, the more I just didn't care anymore and before I knew it, I just let them say and do anything to me."
"That really isn't..."
"Good? I know, but sometimes it happens without me even knowing it. And I guess that it could lead up to my downfall,"
"Downfall? Why do you say that?"
Lucia looked at him, amused. Was he bluffing? "I don't know if you noticed, Harry, but I'm a doormat. I let anyone walk on me and I usually keep my feelings mostly to myself. I'm aware that it's bad of me to do because really, I shouldn't be tolerating the things that people, like Malfoy or Snape, say about me." She sighed, resting her face on the palm of her hand, "But then again, it's not like I don't have a persona either, don't I?"
"Persona? Persona how?" Harry asked, confused by this. He didn't think she acted different in either world they're in... or was he just oblivious?
"I like to think that there's two parts of me; one that was muggle, a girl that does nothing but try to satidy her adoptive parents' greed, and the other is a witch that's trying to get by in this cruel world. Both so different, yet the same at the same time... but I'm sure you never noticed that Harry, since we weren't really friends before this, huh?"
Harry frown a little. Looking back before Lucia entered his life, he now remembered how it felt as if his world, though filled, still felt vacant. "But we would've been a great team,"
"I doubt that." Lucia said, shaking her head. "First year me was a mess. Trust me, you should be glad that we became friends in our fourth year than before then."
Lucia reminisced back to the days where all her expression was only poise and blank with no personality whatsoever, just like how the Beaumont couple had mould her into. The only thing that was present other than apathy was the sense of anxiety.
It wasn't as though she didn't feel lost now, however she felt more lost back then.
"Back then, I was still trying to figure out how to start a new in Hogwarts," she told him.
"By 'start a new', what did you mean by that?"
"It's difficult to explain," she laughed nervously, "but in short, I guess, what I meant was that I've been living as Lucia Beaumont more than I did as Lucia DiFiore. And when I got my letter, I vowed to myself to never lose fact that I'm my parents' daughter and live a life where I chose my own destiny, instead my adoptive parents dictating it." Though, I'm not sure how that's going...
"Lucia Beaumont is an overachiever in things that she never wanted to do but was forced to do. She'll do thing that would impress and satisfy others, but never herself. She's kind of a doormat, at the same time... not?"
"What about Lucia DiFiore?"
A long pause settled between them as Lucia looked down to her hand with a look of confliction. "I... aside from being an utter doormat, I don't exactly know how Lucia DiFiore is..." Does this mean she didn't know anything about herself? Her real self? "What do you think, Harry? Do you have any idea?"
Does he have any idea? That's a bit of a hard question to answer, yet he felt that he knew it all too well. He may not be aware as to how different his Lucia and Lucia Beaumont really were, but he did know the Lucia that's been in front of him since last year. The Lucia DiFiore that had always make things better...
Lucia didn't expect an answer from him, and nor did she not understand why he couldn't exactly because even for her, the question was somewhat difficult.
She tapped her fingers against the surface of the table rhythmically in wonder, "Now that I think about it, the DiFiore me is kind of apart of me that I haven't fully discover yet."
Harry glanced up at her with a gentle look, in which she shrugged.
"Aside from being a doormat, a coward and a not-so-smart person, I really am a mystery to myself... because the only time I could figure myself out is if I'm at Hogwarts where I feel more comfortable? But unlike the Beaumont me, when I'm Lucia DiFiore, I don't feel like I'm making myself be artificial anymore... does that even make sense?" Lucia heaved out a dry laugh.
"Lucia,"
"Hmm?" She glanced up at him. "What is it?"
"You never told me,"
"Told you what?"
"Why you don't like people calling you by anything other than Lucia." Harry questioned quietly. "You said that you find it sacred, why?"
"It's simple really," said Lucia, "It's because Luciana... Lucie... and more are kind of the names that were given to me by people that I can't see anymore. They hold a special place in my heart, and I feel like anyone else using it is like the meaning of those names are, well, tainted?"
Harry stared at her and saw a gaze of longingness in her eyes that was somehow heart-wrenching for some odd reason. "But you let me call you Luce and Lucie..."
"I... I actually don't know why either, not gonna lie." Lucia hummed, "All I know is that I don't find it a problem when you do it."
This was the first he heard of this, and somehow, he wanted to know more. It was like he was craving so deeply to know more.
"You know, when you said by 'the people I can't see anymore,' do you mean —"
"Gosh this is supposed to be about you, Harry. Not me!" Lucia laughed, trying to distract him from the topic as she rubbed her eyes profusely.
He didn't get it. Why was she so adamant to hide things about her biological parents from him?
"Where were we — ? Ah, yes! Anger... anger..." Lucia clasped her hands together, deliberately avoiding the subject, "You see, way back when I was first brought home to the Beaumonts, Hugo was the only one that was nice to me and unfortunately his little brother and sister didn't follow in his footsteps. At first it was bearable, but then primary school started, and it all became too much for me to handle. Slowly I began to have this raging feeling of wanting to bash his head against a brick wall until his blood paints the wall like a mural of a crime sce —"
Harry gaped at this, in which it did not go unnoticed by Lucia, who blushed at her younger self.
"Y-You really thought of that?" he asked, frightened a bit.
"Yeah..." she laughed nervously, fiddling with the sleeves of her nightgown.
"Huh," a genuine look of amusement painted his once frightened expression. Harry grinned, "Who knew little Lucia could be so violent. How old were you when you thought of that, by the way?" he added, smirking like an idiot.
Her eyes twitched. "Seven —"
"Even better!" Harry applauded, taking this information with a spoonful of sugar.
"In my defence, I was forced to watch a lot of none child-friendly action films thanks to Hugo!"
"You were forced, or you just wanted to watch it?"
The red on her cheeks deepened immensely out of embarrassment. "It's a bit of both... but that's not the point!"
Harry calmed from his state of mischief, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry," he grinned. "Go on,"
"Thank you," she huffed, still flustered. Noticing his sly expression, Lucia glared at him and cleared her throat loudly, "Hem, hem," before continuing, "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, my younger self slowly began to feel violent and got into plenty of fights with my younger adopted brother and sister — but they deserved it —"
"I'm sure they did," said Harry.
"Stop interrupting me!" said Lucia, irritated. Harry rose his hands up in defence. "It wasn't easy, I admit. You know, trying to get your temper back in place and not all around anymore? And it also doesn't help me whenever my adopted mother would constantly yell at me for the littlest things... but the thing that got me going was the unknown determination I felt to start Hogwarts differently than how it was in Little Whinging."
"Yeah, I noticed that," said Harry quietly. "How you were with me and Dudley when we first met, and how you were when we got here... I noticed that you became more..."
"Formal? Reserved? Easily frightened?" He nodded, glancing at her momentarily. Lucia hummed, "I guess that's just the real part of me. No persona whatsoever — but I'm sure you noticed how different I was with you than how I was with your cousin?"
Harry tried to remember back the memory before he connected the dots. She's right, he thought. The way her demeanor changed into a much more poise one when they were with Dudley, the opposite of the demeanor he was accustomed to. He guessed it just slipped his mind...
Lucia fixated her eyes to the ceiling, "I would like to believe that when I first started Hogwarts, my real self began to bloom since all the years before all I felt was... empty? I'm not sure. But it was a surprise to me when I realised how opposite me in the Muggle world and the me in the Wizarding world could be. It never dawned on me before." She said, "While Lucia Beaumont knows what to say and what to do, Lucia DiFiore's mind is like this labyrinth of uncertainty you're trying to figure out how to get out of it and sometimes failing to do so because you're just not sure." She paused. "Actually, surprised would be an understatement as to how I felt when realising that that is the real me. That sorry-excuse-of-a-girl is me."
"You reckoned it's because that all of the burden from before kind of dissipate from your shoulders?"
"I won't say it's like that, but you're not far from it. It's more because how abrupt my surroundings changed when I was in the middle of growing both mentally and physically and my mind got jumbled up, I think," said Lucia apathetically, the opposite of what Harry's feeling which was sympathy. "But I learnt throughout the years that I can't do anything but to accept it, and before I knew it, I did."
Lucia then perked at a sudden realisation. "I'm babbling again, sorry,"
Harry shook his head. "No, you weren't. And even if you were, it's not like I didn't enjoy getting the chance to know you more,"
Truthfully, he felt guilty.
Guilty that he never noticed this.
Guilty that it dawned on him of how it was as if he barely knew her now, and that didn't sit well with him.
"This is the first I heard," she giggled. "Friends bonding by talking about how bad their temper was and is. But in all seriousness, Harry, I take back the thing I said about controlling your anger cause that's pretty hypocritical of me,"
"I'm not going to deny that, so apology accepted," said Harry with a proud look, as though he won in a game. Lucia subtly rolled her eyes, however the look soon faded into an expression that Harry couldn't quite decipher, making him a bit nervous.
"Harry," she called after a long and very suspenseful pause.
"Yeah?"
"I told you this before, but I'm gonna tell you again: It wasn't your fault."
"My faul —"
"It's really, really, really unfair that you still think what happened last term is your fault when we all know it wasn't," Lucia said adamantly, her eyes practically piercing through his soul with a look that he felt almost unbearable to acknowledge.
He looked away, refused to look at her any longer. Why did she have to remind him of that? It wasn't like he was blaming himself entirely...
"I know that look too well," she said.
"What look?" he acted dubiously.
"Keep on acting like that and you still won't convince me otherwise. You're blaming yourself and yourself alone again when in fact you should be blaming everything on him." Lucia spoke.
I know...
"Cedric's death wasn't your fault. It was Voldemort's."
Harry flinched — not because of the name, but the cursed memory coming back to him. Suddenly, he shrunk. "Not entirely..."
"Are you really going to make me believe that? It is Voldemort's fault," started Lucia. "It always has been."
"You're not afraid of his name?" asked Harry.
Lucia was aware that this is just another method from him to divert her attention, which wasn't working. However, she went along with it.
She shrugged. "I'm not gonna fear a stupid name. Sure, I'm scared of him as himself, but a name isn't going to trigger that fear."
Momentarily he saw her eyes dulled before the glimmer returned. She shook her head and stared back at him.
"Also, your efforts on trying to distract me is undoubtedly cute, but it's not going to work," mused Lucia.
"It was a hope," retorted Harry.
"In no way am I going to force you to get better overnight, because that's just not how it works. I'm not going to give you some false hope that things would get better because that's not up to us, unfortunately. However, what I can do is give you my support,"
Reaching out for his hand once again, Lucia's eyes locked with his attentively. "I'll be honest, I'm not the cleverest when it comes to many things and dealing with emotions so happens to be one of them" — Lies, Harry thought. She was great at emotions — "but I'm here for you even if you don't want it. I'll always be here while you deal with your mind. It's not going to be easy, but to get better you must at least have a start line."
He chuckled dryly, discouraged on whether he would ever get better.
"Can't I just ignore it?" Harry's voice cracked.
"You can... but at the same time you can't even if you try," said Lucia, voice tender. "It sucks, but time will come when you yourself can confirm on your own that you are better,"
"But what if it never comes?"
What if it never? "Well, until that time comes, it's all up to you whichever path you would go. Nothing is impossible if you think hard enough,"
Harry remained silent, unable to quite decipher what she meant by that. Was there another meaning to her words? He wouldn't know even if he tried long enough pondering over it.
Noticing that thing was clearly bothering him to the point of exhaustion, Rania decided to change up the subject. "Say, Harry,"
He hummed distantly.
"I never asked you this before and it's kinda baffling why I never, but do you know how to make origamis?"
"Do I know how to make origamis — ? What kind of question is that?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"A valid one," said Lucia simply before going through the cabinets for napkins. Harry watched her, puzzled as to what this conversation was aiming for. When she returned, setting down the napkins in front of him, he questioned her.
"What's this for?" He eyed the napkins with judgemental eyes.
Lucia, however, didn't answer him, causing him to feel agitated before he was mesmerised by her folding the napkin so neatly. It was no ordinary folding, but it was as if she had done this millions of times before.
"My mum always goes around the house saying that whenever I feel frustrated or upset, just do something that can make me feel calm. And you know what the first thing I did?"
"What?" he asked, interested as he watched her. "Draw? Paint? Sew? Cook?"
"I did origami of course. Isn't that obvious?" she said snarkily.
"You didn't have to put it way," mumbled Harry, eyes fixed on the napkin that was slowly resembling a... flower?
"But ironically, I feel that I started doing all of this just because my mum was the one that unintentionally taught me when I was a wee baby, and she was taught by my dad. My dad was more of an advocate for people that enjoy the arts because he never gotten to enjoy it himself when he was young." Lucia told him, eyes glimmering at the mention of her. "He was sort of a prodigy — and art nerd, you could say? Be it music, theater, sewing clothes, or even flower arrangement, he can do it all. He enjoys it equally anyway." Lucia told him, eyes glimmering at the mention of her dad.
"Is he the reason why you love art as well?" Harry asked.
Lucia, flustered, nodded. "Somewhat the truth," she admitted. "He even attempted to mimic Helena Ravenclaw's diadem with the littlest info he can get about how it looks. Even won an award for it too. With the stuff he left behind, he indirectly thought me a lot about arts and with my mum's help, music too. Mum and I tried acting too, but that was just not for me I guess..." Lucia then smiled widely, now going on about her mother.
Harry wasn't going to complain though, she looks the happiest when talking about them, which made him ever so curious as to how they would be like if he ever meets them. Of course, that wasn't possible now, he assumes.
"— but you know, Mum was the one that thought me how to cook and she's the reason why I love spicy food more. She's also the reason I took a liking to creatures, thought me the basics on how to take care of them... There! It's done!"
On the table laid a velvet napkin that was shaped like a lotus, neat without flaws. Harry's eyes widened in astonishment.
He knew that she had skills in arts and craft, but never did he thought she was able to create a detailed flower from using a tissue out of everything in the room. Who knew she had such a talent?
Lucia carefully hoisted it off the table and set the lotus napkin on the palm of his hands, making him slightly nervous by the thought that he could simply ruin her hard work with just one wrong move.
He looked up at her, heart skipping a beat when he saw the ethereal view in front of him as she smiled ever-so softly as she stared at the lotus in his hands.
"She also has a knack for business and brought me with her to work. It was one of the best things I remembered!" Lucia said joyfully.
Harry smiled fondly. "She sounded like wonderful woman,"
" She was..." Lucia nodded in agreement, even the mere memory of her parents made her heart clenched bittersweetly. "Despite me taking a lot of my dad's skills, I wanted to be like my mum the most. Not only do I look more like her, but she was also the only person I had left back then."
"And your dad...?"
"Aside from the things I told you about him, there's really nothing left to say about him." Lucia shrugged.
An awkward silence passes over them, and Harry was trying his hardest to not punch himself right there and then.
Despite how calculated she look when she said that, it was inevitable for Harry to not feel embarrassed or awkward. He was mentally cursing himself, why didn't he read in between the lines? Was he that tactless?
Harry perked and immediately say, "I'm sorry for —"
"It's fine," she said reassuringly, but he wasn't sure he was convinced by the masquerade she was putting on as she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her emptied glass with an unreadable expression.
She heaved out a sigh, "That must've been awkward for you, huh? Sorry, that wasn't my intention..."
"I-It wasn't awkward at all!" Go on, Harry. Lie. It was most definitely awkward. "I'm just surprised, it's all..." he laughed nervously.
"Surprised?"
"Well, you don't look one bit bothered when I asked you that..."
"I'm not sure what you mean?" Lucia said, almost amused by this.
Deciding to drop the question prior, Harry went on for a more awkward conversation as he asked her: "Well... aren't you, you know?"
"Oh, you mean do I missed them?"
Harry nodded slowly and awkwardly, which only deepened Lucia's amusement. She hummed harmoniously, as though thinking about the question before she answered him nonchalantly.
"Sometimes yes, sometimes not really because I don't necessarily think of them 24/7," she tapped the tabled absentmindedly, "I mean, there would be times when there would be these voices in the back of my head that forces me to think about them... it get's unbearable time to time, but I want to get better. I still have stuff left for me to get to know them, and while I won't be fully satisfied, it's still better than nothing right?"
Meeting her eyes, Harry wondered how it could still shine with hope and life even with what happened to her last year. Was it because it wasn't the worse thing that happened to her?
Perhaps Harry didn't know much about Lucia like he thought he did. He thought he understood her already, but was he wrong? He always thought that because of every word she conveyed to him was something he always look forward to, it automatically made him understood her more. But he was actually wrong.
He actually barely knew her all this.
Those eyes and smile that held happiness were actually a warning of a thousands of misery that she's been holding onto. He just never noticed it.
He never noticed how her heart of gold was just like his shatter one that's been in a state of pieces for years already. But the difference between him and her was that she wasn't afraid to pick up the parts and mend it back to the treasure that it was before on her own.
Revelation dawned on Harry as he realised that he had been misreading her this whole time; she was neither whole, nor broken. This whole time she had been a state of mending herself, and that was what seemed to be her goal even currently.
Mending herself was as important as everything she does to keep the colour in her life vibrant.
"What... What do you think dying feels like?" He blurted out.
It was truly an unexpected question, but somehow it was also understandable that he asked her that. In his perspective, he must've been thinking what happened to his parents when they were talking about her own.
Lucia held his hand in her own and subconsciously playing with his fingers, as though an act to calm him from how tense he was.
It was working, nonetheless.
"To be honest," she began, "I would think it hurts the few seconds before you're dead."
Harry gulped. Cedric... His parents...
"But everything gets better after that. And in my opinion, I would love to think that the souls that had done so much good in their life and every single one of their actions were earnest, had a choice."
"...choice?"
"Either to look over their love ones and pick their own time to move on from this world, or just move on to the afterlife the moment their souls are separated from their bodies." Lucia glanced up with comfort radiating from her soft eyes, "Why d'you ask?"
He went pink briefly.
"Er... just was thinking about my parents," he stammered.
"They must've been a pair of lovely people to be able to give birth to someone like you," said Lucia.
Harry blushed at the implication. Someone like him?
"Well... well I've been they were brilliant people, though I never met them either..." he added quickly, "but I've heard stories about them from Sirius and Lupin and some others that knew them. And to tell you the truth, it isn't satisfying at all only getting to know your parents that you've been dying to meet through others, but I'm still grateful. I've never met them, but it's nice to know that they were people that stood their ground for what they thought was right and no one can tell me otherwise." Harry's eyes lit up for a second, "As a witch, a wizard, and as parents, they were the greatest. I just wished I could've met them..."
"It'll be concerning if you don't ever wish for that at least once in your lifetime," she said, trying to muse him.
Harry laughed. "Yeah..."
How nice, she thought. It was nice to see those beautiful jewels of eyes glimmer with such life after it only held dullness this whole time. Who knew that speaking of one's parents could do so much? She wished that she could keep him in a box and protect him from those who wants to harm him, but she knew that would do nothing but trouble.
Lucia raised her hand and before he knew it, she parted his hair aside, getting a clearer view of the beautiful green eyes. One of the most beautiful she had ever seen.
Harry felt heat rising to his cheeks at her action. It was different than it was before. It was like everything she does made his heartbeat accelerate in an abnormal pace, making his stomach churn. And to be honest, it felt weird.
Smiling fondly, she said with such tenderness, "Take your time,"
He blinked, completely oblivious for a split second before he got what she meant. Harry looked down to his milk.
"But I don't got time."
"Time may be gold, but time is also timeless itself. You could go through a whole eternity rushing, and you could also go through a whole eternity and take your time."
Lucia spouted nonsense like it was gold, and to Harry that gold she spouted was far from nonesense... yet he couldn't get himself to accept it much.
He pondered over it, sipping his milk.
"Thanks."
"For what?" said Lucia, confused.
"For just being here. Talking to me." Harry glanced up at her, his green irises reflecting against her noir ones.
She smiled.
"Of course." Lucia said, squeezing his hand affectionately. "And thank you for being my friend."
It was his turn to smile at her. Though both were tired as hell, but they just couldn't resist from giving one another an affectionate gesture.
Harry smiled faintly and subconsciously he thought, Anything for you.
The two stayed in the kitchen for awhile in silence, enjoying each other's company. Who would've thought that just talking could do some changes for the heart? All Harry and Lucia was that there was shift in the universe. A good one for once.
A key unlocking their shattered heart, mending once again, together as they shared words with each other. They wished that this peaceful moment could last forever.
But that's always not the case.