I put my cello down with a sigh, as the conductor folded up his music. It had been a very long session, and it was rather draughty in the church. I hadn’t brought my cardigan with me, having foolishly left it draped over my cello case. I had been warm after the walk from the tube, and late, so I hadn’t had a chance to cool off before rehearsal started. Now my arms, which were bare, were covered in an enormous amount of unattractive gooseflesh, in spite of the frenzied playing required for the program. My stand partner put his bow down and stood up and stretched, showing a rather white skinny belly under the ratty jumper and making the appropriate groaning noises.
”That was a killer session. You coming to get something to eat?”
I wrinkled my nose. “No thanks, Alex. I brought some sandwiches, and I have some reading to do. Tell Katy I’ll see her later.” I waved at Katy, who was putting her oboe on a stand, and fiddling with her reeds. I stood myself, and made my way through the chairs and music stands to where my cardigan and bag stood against the wall. I would need to carry them into the vestry, where all the other instrument cases had to go. I gratefully put on my black cardigan, and stood a moment as I saw Ben go out of the door with a group of friends. Ben was devastatingly gorgeous, and I had had a crush on him ever since I had started at the Junior Academy. He had started full time a year before me. For an instant I was tempted to follow him, but then I remembered what I needed to do in the next couple of hours.
I hurried to the icy bathrooms, and tried to warm my hands up in the hot water, but it was impossible. My long black skirt swished against my legs, creating a draught. I had already dressed for the concert tonight, so that my clothes wouldn’t get crushed on the trip into London. Now I was glad I had brought my tights. I changed from my sandals into my tights and concert shoes. That was a bit warmer.
Then I put my cello case in the vestry, and grabbed my bag. I would eat outside on the bench in the small garden attached to the church. I never felt too comfortable leaving my cello out by the stands, but the sound recording men were still rigging up wires (one of which wasn’t taped down and I nearly tripped on), and I had done it before many times. It would be safe.
It was much warmer outside the church, although it was still quite brisk. I sat down cross-legged on the bench, unwrapped my sandwiches and thermos of tea, and then got out the book I had come prepared to read. I had actually found it in the Victoria Music Library, while looking for cello music. The title read “The Horcrux in Music”. It had not been taken out in decades. The cover was shriveled looking, and worn.
I had taken it to my friend Hermione Granger, who was, these days, surrounded in tottering piles of like-looking books. She had given it the once over, and told me that it appeared to be safe, and so it was number one on my reading list for today, together with the Dictionary of Magical Terms and Meanings that she had given me.
Touching the library book made me shiver, but I opened it anyway, and then experienced a swinging feeling of nausea. It was horrible. I had known it would be. Ever since Hermione had told me about her school, and asked for help in her quest to find the seven Horcruxes Voldemort had created, I had been reading books like this. I had become as familiar with the names Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor as I had with the Shostakovich Cello Concerto that I was practicing.
Hermione had been particularly interested in this book, because I had found it in a Muggle library, but her interest had faded somewhat when she realized that it had not been checked out since before Voldemort had actually been born. However, we needed to know all we could about the Horcruxes, and so I was given the task of reading the book.
I knew why it hadn’t been checked out. It was repulsive. Any other Muggle would have shivered and wiped their hands on their clothes before moving on. If I had not noticed the word “Horcrux” on it, there is no way I would have touched it. The book felt slimy, and I had to fight the constant urge to shut it as I read. I kept shuddering and waves of nausea overcame me from time to time, which was a pity, because my sandwich was very good, (strong cheddar and raw onion, just the way I like it) but I knew that was the effect of the magic, so I kept reading.
It was actually a rather lovely spring day, and the walls of the church garden muted the sound of traffic. The pale sunshine, dappled from the one gnarled apple tree in the gardens, danced across the pages as I read, and the church wall both sheltered me from the wind and seemed to vibrate heat from the dirty yellow stone. Another couple of people had wandered into the garden, but did not come near my bench. I put my knees up and kept the cover of the book hidden as I read.
Most of it was very hard to understand, and I used the dictionary a lot, occasionally making notes for Hermione in a small notebook. It was one of the magical items she had given me, and I wasn’t sure I liked it very much. The words disappeared as I wrote in it, and so I couldn’t go back and check anything. Hermione would be able to, but I didn’t have even the slightest vestige of magic. So I hoped my notes made sense, because I couldn’t edit them for her. She said it was safer this way in case anybody found the notebook. Apparently it was a very complicated charm you had to perform to make the words reveal themselves. I hardly thought any fellow members from The Royal Academy were going to be interested in my notebook, and I did think that Hermione was overdoing the security thing, but that was her all over.
Sometimes not having any magic made me feel a little inferior, but Hermione, Harry, and Ron had assured me that I was definitely contributing my fair share towards the team effort just in brainpower!
I think Harry and Ron hoped that if Hermione and I did the legwork, they could go and find the Horcruxes and do whatever had to be done to disable them. They were reckoning without Hermione though, because wherever they went, she was going too. I wished I could go with them, and sometimes I felt a bit left out, because I knew that when we discovered what and where the Horcruxes were, the other three would leave without me, but what use would a Muggle be on a magical quest?
I bit into my cheese sandwich, and looked up another word. It was old-fashioned English, so even some of the English words were obscure until translated. I blessed the fact that Hermione and I had learned Latin one summer, and that I had never really given it up. Languages are something else I am good at, apart from music. I think they really go hand in hand. Katy swears I am wrong, because she is half French and she still speaks with an English accent, but I like learning languages, and find them easy.
After an hour and a half’s worth of reading, however, I was frowning. As far as I could understand, you could put a Horcrux into music. It would only be released if the same piece of music were played on the same instrument, while certain magical words were used. If the instrument were destroyed, a piece of that instrument would have to be used to fashion another to release the music. If the instrument were burned, the ash would have to be added to the varnish. I sat for a while, lost in study. Of course there was no knowing if Voldemort had used an instrument at all. If he had, which instrument would he choose, and which piece of music? And why? Would the instrument have to be played by a wizard, or could anyone do it? And did the person playing have to say the words, or could it be someone else? The book was not clear on that point.
Suddenly I was burning to go back to the Victoria library. Typically Voldemort had been turning pieces with history into Horcruxes. Could there be a tune that was a favourite of Rowena Ravenclaw’s? (Somehow I always felt that she would be the one to play an instrument if any of them did; I identified with her far more than the others.) And had any of them owned an instrument? If they had, it wouldn’t be a typical modern instrument, but a flute or something. I needed to find out more about the dates and times that the Founders had been alive.
Of course, it could just be a red herring, because quite frankly Voldemort could have used umpteen different things as a Horcrux, and I had never heard anything about him being musical, but we were following up any lead, however slight. And if one magical book had found its way into a Muggle music library, wasn’t it a possibility that others might have?
And to me, music made sense. Music evokes passion in many people, and nearly everyone can relate to some piece of music. If I were to split myself into parts, I would definitely pick a piece of music for one part. Probably the Dvorak Cello Concerto.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katy and Alex returning with a group of my other friends, and I slipped the notebook and horrible slimy Horcrux book quickly back into my bag and went over to meet them.
Katy hailed me. “We brought you some hot chocolate. Alex said you looked pretty chilly earlier, and we found this little place near Covent Garden that does it with real chocolate and chocolate curls on top.”
I took the cup gratefully. I had left the lid off my thermos while I was reading, and the tea I had brought with me was stone cold.
“Thank you. Did you see Ben?”
Katy rolled her eyes. “No. I think you would be better off making sheep’s eyes at that gorgeous bloke who came to the last concert. Harry Potter. He was certainly interested in you!”
“Well, I thought he was pretty amazing too, but he already has a girlfriend. I keep telling you the only reason he came to the concert was because Hermione came, and she made him.” I took a sip of chocolate and closed my eyes. It was heavenly.
“Get away! She can probably make her boyfriend do anything, but she can’t possibly make her other friends come to concerts if they don’t want to.” Neither Katy nor Alex believed me.
I smiled faintly. I couldn’t tell her that the only reason they had all come to the concert was to take me back to somewhere called Grimmauld Place afterwards so that Hermione and I could brainstorm some of our theories on where Helga Hufflepuff’s silver cup could be. I had met Harry’s girlfriend Ginny there. Actually they weren’t going out any more, something about Harry not wanting her to get hurt, but you could see Harry still liked her a lot. And although I thought Harry was rather gorgeous, I was still so much in the habit of being in love with Ben from a distance I would have been quite at a loss if he had been available and interested!
Since I drivel on about Ben a lot, I had better tell you a bit about him. He is tall, and extraordinarily good looking, with eyes that are blue green “ a sort of light aqua colour in a tanned face. He has thick brown hair and a very mobile mouth. Last year he wore short sleeves a lot, and you can see he has very fit arms, but lately he has been covered up. Partly because of the cold, and it is also rumored that he got an embarrassing tattoo.
There was great discussion at first as to whether or not he was gay, but then his girlfriend came to a concert with his parents so that settled that question, and broke my heart at the same time. However, she had not been seen for a while, so I was keeping my fingers crossed that perhaps it hadn’t worked out. Not that I could hope Ben would notice me. All the girls like him, and he is kind of a loner. Nor am I experienced at relationships, or flirting. I am what people refer to as a “Boffin” with a capital B. I have no idea how to flirt. I had hardly ever exchanged two words with Ben, even though he played in violas, almost next to me. But it is nice to dream.
I had drifted off into a Ben daydream while Katy and Alex bickered about something in the way that they always bickered. I zone out when they do that. The rest of the group, which I joined occasionally were standing outside too, reluctant to go in and start changing in the freezing cold church. I was just drinking the last of my chocolate, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Hi Lauren.”
I spilled the rest of the chocolate down my front, and choked on what I had in my mouth. It was Ben. Ben, who had never before singled me out or looked over in my direction. Katy and Alex stood open mouthed, forgetting to argue.
“I’m sorry,” Ben said apologetically as I wiped chocolate off my chin with the back of my hand, absolutely mortified. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” I fished a crumpled tissue (the only one I had) out of my bag and scrubbed at my front. At least my cardigan was black and it wouldn’t show, but it had probably stained my shirt underneath.
“I’m sorry,” Ben said again, and I looked up at him. It really was him, those sea blue eyes looking concerned.
“Don’t worry. I’m clumsy, that’s all. And it is black. See? No damage done.” I straightened as I spoke, wishing my voice didn’t sound so reedy and breathless. I looked a little damp, but it wouldn’t show from a distance. I wiped the tissue over my hands, and looked around for a dustbin. Ben took the cup from me.
“Here, I’ll get rid of that. I suppose you will want to wash your hands. I just wanted to talk to you.”
Ben wanted to talk to me? I could feel myself flushing. “Yes, that’s alright, I’ll only be a moment. I mean, washing my hands.”
I didn’t know if I was making sense or not. Ben wanted to talk to me! The boy I had admired for years wanted to talk to me! I bumped into Katy as I backed away, looking even more foolish, before I hightailed it to the bathrooms, closely followed by Katy and Alex. Alex should theoretically have stopped outside; but he didn’t. He never really minded the conventions too much. Katy was bouncing. “Lauren! What did Ben want?”
I ran water and patted it over my chin, which had a brown chocolate stain, and winced at my reflection. “I don’t know. He just wanted to talk. Probably won’t now that I have made such a fool of myself. On the other hand,” I went on a bit damped, “he might just want to borrow a book or something unexciting.”
Alex rolled his eyes, and ran some paper towels under water for me, ignoring (or perhaps not even noticing) the glares of the girls who were using the facilities and didn’t think a man should be in the ladies toilets. I looked at my straight black hair, as I mopped my sweater with the towels, and not for the first time, wished I had Hermione’s extravagant bushy curls, or even Katy’s looser curls. Something memorable rather than something that made me look like a stereotypical vicar’s daughter. I’m not, but I look like one, unlike Katy who is one, and doesn’t look it. I never wear makeup either, as I simply cannot put it on without looking like a complete clown, but at least I looked neat.
After discussing the matter at a greater length than it probably needed, and giving me a lot of advice that I resolved never to take, Katy and Alex wished me luck and went to get dressed.
I dried my hands, face and front with the hard paper towels and went outside. Of course Ben wasn’t there. He had gone to get changed so I went into the Vestry. There were many people there in various states of undress. Alex was pulling his trousers on, and Katy was trying to zip up her black frock, which had got caught. I went to help her, looking around the room. Ben was on the other side, tying black concert shoes. He already had his shirt and trousers on, but needed to put on his tux and bowtie.
Katie got out her make up, and snapped at Alex, who elbowed her at the wrong moment because he was hopping around pulling on his black socks up his skinny legs. I saw another argument starting, so I wandered as if by accident over to where Ben was now tying his bow tie by feel: there being no mirrors in the vestry. It was crowded with the all orchestra trying to get dressed at once, and John the horn player was wandering around in his underpants scratching his belly, and getting in everyone’s way, moaning that he had forgotten to bring his black socks, and did anyone have some to spare?
As I reached him, Ben turned to me, as if we had been close friends for ages. “Lauren, could you straighten my tie? I can never get it to look good without a mirror.”
I didn’t want to tell him that I would probably make things worse, but he had already tied it, so how bad could it be? Just being that close to him would be wonderful.
I stepped up and fiddled with his tie, and he looked over my head into the distance, the way men do so that they don’t get choked while you arrange their ties. (I don’t have any first hand experience, but I know the routine from old black and white films). Remembering the raw onion, I tried not to breathe too hard, and began to feel a bit light headed. Ben broke the silence. “You are doing really well for your first year. Haven’t I seen you before?”
We had only been playing in the same orchestra for about four years in Junior Academy before he left for the main college orchestra a year before me! I told him so, a little coolly. I know I am not that attractive, being one of your serious, sharp-elbowed gawky girls, but still. He had the grace to look abashed.
“I was wondering if you were doing anything after the performance, or if you wanted to grab a coffee or something.”
My insides gave a pleasant swoop, and then I remembered Hermione was coming by to pick me up for another brainstorming session at Grimmauld Place.
“Oh, I would really have loved to, but I have something else planned.”
I couldn’t believe my bad luck. I had looked forward to this moment for years now, and I couldn’t accept. “Can we make it another day?” I might have been bad at flirting, but I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip.
I stepped away from him, sincerely glad that he wasn’t going to be able to see the mess I had made of his bow tie.
“I would like that.” His eyes for a moment stared into mine before I got so flustered I had to look down. “Maybe tomorrow afternoon?” We could meet after our last lecture. Mine ends at six. And you?”
I had to try to think, which was difficult with him so near. “Um, I finish at four tomorrow, but I could use the extra cello practice. I’ll be in one of the rooms downstairs.”
As I finished speaking, Ellie came over. She was a violinist, and when Ben did hang with a crowd, it was usually hers. She gave a gasp and handed me her violin, which I automatically took from her without thinking.
“Ben Stranger, what did you do to your bow tie? Here, let me do it, I have had a lot of practice.”