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21 - Poor Excuses
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Dear Gammaliel,
I apologize that I have intruded your sleep when you received this. I admit it's an impulsive decision, but for merlin's sake I have a few things to address.
I hope you didn't take my insult of your muggle book earlier this morning. I wasn't in my best state
It has been such a rough week, and that I know it doesn't mean that I can spat on your 'token' (what ever that means) I'm sure it means so much to you.
And just as you are being discreet on possessing a muggle book at home. I had to do the same thing. I hope that you see my reasoning for not being able to speak what my mind wished to, and for that I'm sorry.
Eagerly waiting for your reply,
R.A.B
Gammaliel curled her lips as she leaned against the chair inside her compartment. The Irish peered down to the letter, thinking that the boy might need someone to talk to while she was busy minding her pride — Ugh stupid! She clutched her hand to the letter tightly, pondering what Merlin said earlier that summer.
She remembered Merlin's hoarse voice as he had described his trial to save Arthur in The Battle of Camlann. He chose to ignore details and jumped to conclusion that Morgan le Fay would bring the end towards it all. He ignored that fate, between life or death, was like a set of dominoes. It fell as life went on, and you could see the events affected one's fate.
To prevent it to happen, to prevent Regulus from his death, Gammaliel had to notice these events. It was crystal, Sirius's runaway was a major change in Regulus's life. The Irish witch pursed her lips again, discerning her distress that seethed in her pretty mind. What's next? Would this war will be his next dominoes to fall?
Zygo tossed her head back, staring away to the view beyond the window, the gentle September breeze brushed her obsidian hair. Persephone might be the queen of hell, but she only meddled with the death itself. Not how to prevent one to lose earth's magnificent gift, that was the life itself. Ironic wasn't it, the queen of underworld was trying to stop one's deaths. But in the hand of an almighty goddess who could grow gardens of forbidden flowers in the depth of death's realm:
It wasn't impossible to keep Regulus alive.
Gammaliel cursed her mind, on how this blood of Merlin, gave her a gift to peer the future. And yet, not knowing what nor how to deal with it. A surge of annoyance materialized to disappointment. How did life become so unfair, she recalled Sirius's action. To her, he was selfish. True, it wasn't one thing to blame on one side. But it didn't mean that Sirius could get away with poor excuses.
There was always two sides of the same coins since the beginning of time. Sirius was sixteen, hot-blooded teenagers with an emotional range of a clover. He ran away out of a fast-paced decision, ignoring the fact or the burden Regulus might felt. And Gemma always disliked him for his — I can't just sit down and do nothing behavior — as if he was a kid with an attention problem.
Her emotion rose allowing her old-magical blood rose to its limit. Azure flames wrapped the paper she was holding, her eyes flashed aqua. While the ashes disappeared in midst of chaotic thought. One thing she discovered, the Ministry of Magic tracked each young wizards and witches before they turned 17. Yet, it only applied to those born with new magic or wand magic — in all essence, Gammaliel was at the liberty to use her magic. Since hers wasn't detectable as long as she didn't hold her wand.
She rose from her seat, hearing the compartment door opened magically. The witch stepped out then walked down the alley, trying to find the noisiest compartment where the marauders were seated. But to her fortune, she caught the Gryffindor just got out of the bathroom — with a Hufflepuff blonde trailing behind him. Gemma scrunched her face in disgust and she strolled to him swiftly, while the boy bid the girl goodbye with a small peck on her cheek.
Sirius pivoted on his heel, hands brushing a love bite mark on his neck. But he came to a halt when the Irish witch stood behind him with eyes glaring at him. A wide grin plastered on his face, peering down to the prefect badge, "Look who's a prefect now." he began, snickering, but she remained with furrowed brows.
"Little bird." Sirius began, noticing the fuming girl attitude, "Come on, Moony always let me pass."
But the Irish witch narrowed her eyes, stepping forward in such an intimidating manner. "Sirius." began Gemma, "You have something to explain."
Sirius drew a deep breath, "And that is?"
Gemma tore her gaze then scoffed at his audacity to act innocent, "For instance, the part where you run away to the Potters and you left me clueless?" her timbre raised, mirroring her aggravation.
"Okay?" Sirius arched his brows, narrowing his eyes in confusion, "Shouldn't I get a congratulation for that dear Gem?"
"Congratulations?" Gemma's timbre was silvery with judgmental gaze. "Wow, you're expecting me to congratulate you for your selfishness?" she shook her head briskly, his silver eyes transfixed at her.
Once Sirius caught a sapphire glow showed on her eyes, the older Black pulled her into an empty compartment. He slid the door closed while the witch huffed.
"Are you mad—"
"No, but you are selfish!" Gemma pointed her finger to his chest.
"Call me selfish then Gem, but I hate it to be in that house." Sirius said exasperatedly as his face glossed with unchanneled frustration, "I am selfish to leave the house, but he wouldn't leave it either way. He and I stand on different side—"
"You left him in there and you did not know what have you done!" Gemma cut him short and clenched her fists, "You hated the place and yet you left him alone! If you hated the place, Sirius, then think will he likes it better without you?"
The two fell into silence. Sirius's eyes darkened as guilt glossed his feature, and there was a denial on his pursed lips. A denial how he was selfish, his brain mustered excuses to correct his wrong-doing. Portrayed him to be innocent that leaving the house was the right thing to do. He had to and he wished she could understand him, but she didn't. Vile built up in his throats, and his Gryffindor's pride had restrained him to speak the appropriate word.
"Stupid! Stupid Gryffindor!" Gammaliel shot her gaze at him, eyes moistened, "How am I supposed to do what you asked if you ruin it for him?"
"I wouldn't leave if he doesn't have that book!" Sirius's gravelly voice rose in sync with the train sound. Steel against steel, the girl was gaping as he went on. "You gave him the book. The idiot left it unattended and I had to cover it up for him. If you want to blame anyone for why I left, you can blame yourself, or my idiot brother or my dear mother!"
"What?" Gemma's voice cracked, and a tear fell off her eyes. "I was trying to make him understand you, to see your point of view, and you blamed me? This is such a poor excuse, Black!" she exclaimed, "You wanted to leave the place on your own will, and he did not blame me for what had happened. Sirius, you are an absolute man-child!"
Sirius scoffed, shaking his head while he stared at the quivering girl. "Why do you care so much about him anyway? He disagrees with me and would tail my mother's will and pleased her. I don't get it why you cared so much?"
Why?
BECAUSE HE'S GOING TO DIE, Gammaliel held herself back and instead dug her nails on the palm of her hand, reddening. The atmosphere between the two was suffocating and Sirius went on with hot-blooded rambled before he passed her. Leaving the Irish with her hammering heart and distress.
You're going to kill him.
Gemma peered down and cursed herself in her thoughts, that she had caused his domino to fall. She shouldn't have meddled with time. Persephone's garden was hit by the drought out of desperation. She caused Regulus's catastrophic fate, then her heart ache from inside out.
You killed your mother and now he's next.
The voices rang in her ears as she tried to collect herself together, stepping out and kept her gaze on her shoes. Appalling memories was playing over and over again in her head. She wanted it to stop, and yet she couldn't. But to her fortune, a hand wrapped touched her coal-hot wrist and within his touch, she melted in him.
He smelled like the sun and the sweetest apricot and Gemma shot her watery eyes to find the golden-haired boy, Martin, with a confused gaze. Apollo had always been Persephone's dear friend, just like the sun was to a flower.
"Gem, I've been looking for you, Merlin. I sat with Marlene and it was horrible, I had to deal with all of the gossips." his voice came, but the boy had known the girl longer than yesterday. "Oh... what happened to you?"
"Make it stop." the girl said with a hoarse voice.
"Gemma, calm down." the boy spoke with clarity, as he waved and tried to touch the girl's hand, "Your eyes, Gemma. You have to keep it in control."
True, Gammaliel's eyes glowed. The devil deity she was inside her soul tried to unleash itself. After all, she was demonic wasn't she, and why didn't she just let it all broke lose right there and then, a voice in her head spoke. Like a faint sinister whisper, she could blow the train and it would be all right. She shook her head, control it!
You kill him.
Then with pavonated eyes, she continued. "I want the voices to stop! Please!" she began and her finger shivered holding back amon's will, her skin burned inside out. She huffed as if air was no longer able to penetrate her lungs system.
"Gemma, take a deep breath —" Martin's timbre was soothing, and the girl rose her hand to her hair feeling the coal hot sensation on her face. "Now — I beg of you. Calm down, count with me all right?"
"Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight—" the Irish witch mumbled resonating her heartbeat with her count down. Then slowly the pain faded away, unsure what lit her emotion that way. Perhaps, the Merlin heiress didn't want to lose her Arthur.
***
"VAN DIJK, JACOB!" McGonnagal's voice echoed in the great hall, as the start-of-the-term Banquet had begun. And she was calling the last student for the sorting ceremony. The said boy rolled his eyes and lazily stepping ahead to the chair.
"Yes, Professor, I'm here and it's only me left in here anyway." said the boy with a low grumble while McGonnagal fixed her spectacles, making sure she would remember the boy's name. Earning snickers from the Slytherin's table. "I should note my dad, that having alphabetical sorting sucks."
"He's starting the day with a nice remark, isn't he? Dumbledore would have expelled him at some point." Martin snickered, "Guess what's the sassy boy going to be in? Bet he's a Slytherin."
Gammaliel only smiled, shrugging and her azure prefect badge was shining under the thousands of candle that lit the banquet hall that evening. She frowned in amusement, folding her hands over her chest. Then turned to meet Martin's eyes, "Witty — he will be in our house."
"No." Martin clicked his tongue, shaking his head while he too, folded his hand over his chest smugly to face the girl, "Slytherin."
"Two sickles?" The Irish witch quirked her brows, sapphire eyes met his pairs of cyan, smirking. Marty returned the challenging smirk, nodding.
"Two sickles."
The mischievous stare broke off as they tore to see the boy had the hat for a solid three minutes. The hat was mumbling between the silence. Saying something between mischief, cunning, and curiosity, but then the hat yelled loudly, "RAVENCLAW!"
McKinnon boy groaned and his hand dug to his pocket, taking two silver coins out of it. Hesitantly handing it under the table to the girl, she offered a mischievous smile. Contrary to what happened on the train earlier, when he saw her cried and it felt like he was defusing a magical atomic bomb. The goddess confessed that she had to do something with Regulus yet she couldn't tell him what was it. She spoke something about fate and how it would change if too many people knew the matter.
The blond boy smiled bitterly as he bloomed into Apollo watching her eyes flickered from the amount of oxytocin flowed in her blood. And the god of the Sun was admiring her in the safest distance, just like he always did. The sun could never have whom he desired, all he could do was admiring at a distance. If he stepped closer, he would burn the things he loved and Apollo wouldn't do that to Persephone.
If anyone would love the sun, it would hurt, and yet to be in love, Apollo would like to do it again and again until he reached catharsis of his emotion, until he couldn't feel anymore. Though it hurt, deep down he knew that was all he could do. Then she snapped him out of his thought as the goblets and plates were filled with their feast menu, the scent of delicacy evaded in the room.
"So, I wonder." McKinnon began, smiling to the girl as she dipped in for crips, "Gem, you are dealing with the Blacks, not one, but two — I'm glad you're not turning mental yet. The question is how? — you are on first-name basis with the Slytherin's prince."
Gammaliel exhaled deeply, "I don't want to talk about it right now, Marty." the Irish girl paused, grabbing his goblet of tea off his hand sneakily, "I just want to eat, and forget all the shits I have done."
The blond sighed deeply, an relief blessed his ears as he, for once didn't have to witness how she was bewitched by Regulus Black. Even though, Gemma rarely talked openly about him anymore.
The Merlin heiress would steal a short glance at the other table, flashing a smile to the grey-eyed boy on the Slytherin's table. As he replied with a timid smirk. Nearing the end of the feast, a purple letter tied in gold ribbon appeared in front of her table.
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Author's note:
Can you guess who sent the letter?