𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter twenty-five; Have You Ever Seen The Rain
" That the best thing for her was to grow up without you. "
ROMAN MAYES HATED the rain. There was no deeper meaning to this. He'd hated it as a child, when his friends invited him to splash in puddle-ridden streets, Roman would stoically stomp with galoshes for a short span of five minutes returning to the warmth of his home. And now, standing on the front porch of Elizabeth Gerard's house, he hated it a little bit more.
A water droplet from his hair snuck down the back of his spine, cheating the jacket he'd spelled to repel water. He should've spelled his hair. Or perhaps carried an umbrella. This is what normal people with a distaste for precipitation did. This is not what Roman did.
His red curls were flat to his head, drenched from rain, with a perfectly dry jacket and slacks, and he was refusing to knock.
Now, Roman took pride in his bravery. His risk. Confidence. But Gerard women easily smothered this. They rendered it useless.
But he hadn't seen her yet, so he let a long breath out, and knocked quickly on the faded blue door. Roman wondered if the door was like this when Elizabeth bought the house, or if she'd taken it upon herself to paint it baby blue in a pair of cuffed jeans covered in paint splatters.
"Coming!" A voice rang inside, following by the quick pattering of bare feet on hardwood floors, before the blue paint was torn away from Roman all at once.
Elizabeth was beautiful. She always had been, but it hit Roman in the face as her features melted into shock. Her hair was still blonde, a darker shade now with far more length. She still had poised features, high cheekbones and pointed eyebrows, eyes that could pierce even the thickest armor.
"Roman."
"Hey, Lizzie," Roman laughed nervously, reaching up to scratch his neck and cringing at the weight of the water.
"Come inside," She sighed, as if no time had passed and she still knew about his hatred of the rain, closing the door behind him quickly, "Your hair. . ."
"It's fine," Roman disregarded, the reason he'd shown up washing away any and all thoughts of the past, "I have a bone to pick with you."
⥊
Salem was starting to panic about NEWTs. April was coming to a close, as was the judgment on her studies. Because now, with just shy two months until the dreaded tests, the library was bustling and stress was spreading.
But Salem had been doing this since seventh year began, so she had extra time for the unique kind of anxiety that consumed her.
"You're stressing for no reason, Sal, you're going to get the highest marks out of all of us."
"I'm going to fail."
Lily looked up from her book to raise an eyebrow at Salem, who was laying face up on Lily's four-poster bead, red locks skimming the ground kindly.
"You're not going to fail."
"What am I going to do after Hogwarts?" Salem mumbled, "The Ministry would never even look at me with failed NEWTs. Maybe I'll find a job in Diagon Alley. Some cashier for the rest of my days."
Lily laughed because she couldn't help it, and Salem haphazardly grabbed a pillow that she chucked at the girl without looking.
"Hey!"
"I'm going to be homeless and you're laughing!"
"You won't be homeless— I've heard Flourish and Botts pays well."
"You're absolutely the worst best friend in the history of forever."
Salem sighed at the curtains covering Lily's bed, so she didn't see the redhead's growing smile at her new title.
"Ladies! It is getting far too masculine down here, we require some of your delicate conversation!"
Salem laughed sharply at Sirius' beckoning from the bottom of the girls' dormitory stairs, pushing herself up from the mattress quickly.
"Are you coming?"
"Good book— you go, I hear James is smitten after a rather. . . heated kiss?"
"I regret telling you."
"Too bad you can't take it back!"
Salem hurried to the bottom of the stairs, met with the sight of four Marauders splayed across Gryffindor furniture— she often wondered if anyone grew annoyed with their constant takeover of the common room.
"There she is!"
"Lily and I are reading," Salem smiled at James' spike of excitement, "But, are you lot busy later? My candy stash is running low and I was thinking about heading to Honeydukes."
"Never busy for you," James smiled, his face growing warm when Salem pecked his cheek, "We'll be here, still."
"Okay, don't break anything!"
James rested his chin on his knee, watching Salem hurry back up the stairs and watching them long after she was out of sight.
"Prongs. . . are you blushing?"
"Got tired of them that quickly?" Lily questioned with a light smile as Salem re-entered the otherwise empty dorm room.
"You're more my speed, Evans," Salem sighed, sliding down onto the ground beside Lily, "Got any good books?"
"Bookshelves of them— but here, because I know you can appreciate the best muggle authors."
"Oh, every fantasy book only gets better knowing magic is real."
⥊
"So. You found Salem."
"She found me— bright kid, she is."
Elizabeth Gerard wished she could drown in her cup of tea. She stared into it, hoping the cup would suddenly open wide and swallow her whole, simply to escape the sharp edge of Roman's kind tone.
"You should know there is a reason I never told you."
"Oh, well that makes it all alright."
The woman frowned, picking at the small chip in her cup.
"Come on, Lizzie. Let's hear it."
"You told me you never wanted children," She snapped, finally meeting his eyes that quickly became less fiery, "You told me time and time again that you never wanted kids, so when I found out about Salem. . . I didn't want her to feel unwanted. Ever."
"So you told her I left?"
"What was I supposed to say? That I didn't think you wanted her so I made you leave?"
"You didn't even give me a chance."
"What would you have done with it?" She asked honestly, "Not now, then. When you were trapezing around the world, refusing to grow up. You didn't want a job, you didn't want kids, you didn't want a stable life, Roman."
"You were trapezing with me!"
"But I always wanted to settle down! You didn't!"
"It would've been different if I knew."
"That's easy to say now," Elizabeth accused, "To claim you'd have been there when she got her letter or when she cried on the platform. You can tell me all you want that you'd have taken all her hurt away and fixed her and been the best father possible, but we both know the truth."
"And what's that?"
"That the best thing for her was to grow up without you."
Roman pursed his lips. He hung his head, in the weight that of the statement that very well may have been true. He had been childish— he still was. A man with Peter Pan syndrome. He was a good friend. A good confide. But could he actually have parented Salem? Praised and punished, taught and kept safe— would he have been able to do anything good for her at all?
"Well I like how she is today," Roman stated quietly, "She is not broken, Elizabeth. She's brilliant. And strong. And that is all her because we know she didn't inherit it from either of us. Two people too weak to face our problems."
And he was right. Roman ignored the scary things, the big ones. Like the war and world beyond the Three Broomsticks. And Elizabeth ran (a trait Salem had inherited) from everything. From her family, from Roman, from Salem.
She was stronger than both of them combined.
"She wants to speak with you, that's why I came."
Elizabeth's heart sunk.
"You have to come back with me, to Hogsmeade— a village right outside of Hogwarts."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"It's not about us, Lizzie!" Roman snapped, "This is about our daughter and everything you've put her through."
Elizabeth was clearly taken aback at this. But, at the end of the day, it was she alone who'd made these choices. She, alone, who raised Salem. Who taught her right from wrong. Who forced her to grow up too quickly.
"Alright, then."
"Alright?"
"Well, it's either now, or I send you back and she comes home this summer even angrier."
"I'm not sure she could get any angrier than she is now."
"Salem can always get angrier."
Suddenly, a large orange cat hissed at Roman's heels, making the man look down in exhaustion.
"Not you, too."
( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
I have a feeling everyone
is gonna hate Sal's mom
but like. . . I think she has
Sal's best intentions in mind,
she's just executing it poorly;
I LIKE MAKING MORALLY GREY
CHARACTERS! IF YOU COULDN'T
TELL!