I blushed scarlet and determinedly avoided Ben’s eyes, as Ellie efficiently undid my handiwork, and started the whole bow tie again with a practiced air.
I felt a bit used as she collected her violin and Ben with a careless “Thank you sweetie”, and made off with them both towards a group of people which included her own boyfriend, pianist and would-be composer Aaron Sutcliffe, who was doing the Beethoven with us today as the first half of the program. He was standing in an admiring circle, flicking his longish dirty blond hair back and posing as he usually did.
Ben did look over his shoulder and call “See you tomorrow then,” but I was still kicking myself as I made my way over to Katy and Alex. It seemed that every time I came into contact with Ben I would come over as an idiot. However, it was a balm to wounded pride when Katy and Alex pounced on me and asked for the news, and I was able to tell them that Ben and I were going on a date.
Later, Hermione congratulated me when she, Ron and Harry swung by after the concert, and met me outside the building. Hermione had suffered my long letters about Ben for years, and had agreed that he was very handsome when I pointed him out to her at the last concert. (From her unconvincing performance I suspected that she thought Ben as handsome as I thought Ron, but really and truly, Ben is far better looking.)
We were standing at the side of the church chatting when Ben came out with his viola case and some people in tow, who looked like they might be relations. He saw me and stopped short, looking over at Harry, his brows drawn together. It suddenly occurred to me that he probably thought Harry was my date! Ron and Hermione were holding hands, and Harry was standing near me.
I waved at him and called “See you tomorrow!” and had the satisfaction of seeing his face lighten.
We were getting to Grimmauld Place by broom. Harry thought he could manage me, and Ron was going to take my precious cello, having promised not to drop it.
When the crowd had thinned and we weren’t likely to be noticed, we went around to the back of the church, and Hermione Disillusioned me. That is, she tapped me on my head and I felt icy trickles down my back, (it feels a bit like that kid game when you say “break an egg down your back”) and then I wasn’t there any more “ at least I was, but it was like I had taken on the attributes of my surroundings.
It was a little spooky to tell the truth, and made me feel very sick. I think Muggles must have a different reaction to magic than wizards, because none of the others seemed to feel at all upset about it.
Harry was to take me on his broom because he was the best flier, and I am terrible about stuff like that. I get vertigo on a bicycle. Hermione didn’t particularly like flying either, and the two of us had lobbied to take a taxi to Grimmauld Place, but Ron and Harry had said that brooms would be easier. They don't like taxis.
It was the most miserable ride of my life. By some great good fortune I managed not to throw up down Harry’s back, but the ride was simply awful, and I staggered into Grimmauld Place looking like something the cat had dragged in, and set off the Screaming Lady by tripping over a malevolent hat stand, that Hermione needed to rescue me from. Harry came in rubbing his shoulders where I had been clutching him. (He swears to this day that he has deep ingrained marks.)
As I had thought, the others were sceptical about one of the Horcruxes being a piece of music, but I was stubborn, and so I stuck to my point. I think I was partly so keen for it to be music because that is what I was good at.
I arranged for myself to go to the Victoria library and look again to see if I could find anything else magical, and then we discussed the Horcrux attached to Helga’s cup. I found that while I had been practicing, the others had located it, but they needed to work on some spells to retrieve it safely. I marked three that I thought would be useful and Hermione agreed, and added three more.
The next part of the evening was very interesting to me. I never tire of watching magic being practiced “ so long as they don’t practice on me. (Ron once levitated me to the top of a tall cupboard, and refused to let me down, when I sided with Hermione in one of their constant spats.)
Hermione, Ron and Harry practiced the spells, and I was the prompter, as it were, with the books. My knowledge of Latin came in very useful here, as I was even better at pronunciation than Hermione now. She had stopped Latin at Hogwarts, but I had continued to take it until I got into the Academy full time.
I got to watch the various coloured lights that shot from their wands, and from the illustrations in the book (which moved) was able to correct their wand movements. Hermione was very good of course, she got everything the first or second time, but Harry and Ron both needed a lot of guiding. Ron thought that he was the worst, but to be fair he was every bit as good as Harry; what he needed was the confidence. It can’t be easy being the boyfriend of the cleverest witch of the age.
Watching magic is a little like watching Star Wars. Especially with the other magical creatures that come and go. There is one called Kreacher who is just completely vile and looks unwashed. He gives me the creeps, and he doesn’t like me any either. He likes me even less than Hermione, and that is saying something, because he is always mean to her, rolling his eyes and frothing at the mouth if she so much as speaks to him.
I love the paintings here too: they move all the time, and each painting is like watching television, only you can have conversations with them! The only really irritating one is of the Screaming Lady, which is a portrait of Sirius Black's mother. We call her the Screaming Lady because she never shuts up. Harry and Hermione won’t let me talk to many of the paintings, because they are mostly Dark pictures and aren’t safe for a Muggle. Most of them insult me anyway, but it is still fun. Like when you go to Wonkee’s Chinese Restaurant, and the waiters insult you as part of the experience. The Screaming Lady insults everybody.
Anyway, we practiced until late in the night, and then Hermione took me back through the Floo, which they had connected to the apartment that she and I now shared in Ealing Broadway. I can’t do things like that myself, but I can with someone like Hermione to help. The Floo is much better than flying, although it looks scarier as you have to step into green flames. They aren’t hot - just pleasantly warm.
The next day, I actually cut two classes to go down to the Victoria Music Library, because I hadn’t done much cello practice recently, and I didn’t want to give up the two hours I could do before I met Ben. I knew Katy and Alex would let me have their notes, and seeing the magic world and the horrific things that Voldemort could do was enough to convince me that cutting a few classes was worth it. Hey, if Hermione was taking a year off school, that meant that the world was definitely in need of saving and if I could do anything to help, I would.
I gave my cello to the librarian to keep behind the desk for me, and after an hour of looking around and finding zilch, decided to ask for help. It wouldn’t matter if I asked about Rowena Ravenclaw here (I was still convinced somehow that it was Rowena Ravenclaw who would have been the musical one; something I had heard about her recently was niggling at the back of my mind). The librarian here would just think she was an ordinary composer; the Victoria Music Library was, after all, a Muggle facility. The wizarding world probably had its own musical collections.
The librarian went to their antiquated filing system and spent some time rifling through dog eared cards, before returning with two entries and giving me some numbers. To be honest, I hadn’t really expected anything, so I was pleasantly excited. The first book I pulled out was a bit of a disappointment, as it was a string quartet composed by a Siegfried Ravenclaw, but I tucked it under my arm anyway. After all, he could be a relative of hers. With the second book, I knew I had struck gold.
It was a piece for solo bass instrument. It had been transposed, of course, as goodness knows what the original piece would have been written for. It was marked “Traditional melody, att. Rowena Ravenclaw.” Of course, that didn’t mean that the Rowena Ravenclaw, founding member of Hogwarts, had composed it but it was worth checking out. The book was not obviously magical, as the Horcrux book had been, and so I checked it out normally. (I am ashamed to say that I had “shoplifted” the Horcrux book from the shelves, as I didn’t want the librarian to not let me have it, if you see what I mean.)
I should have gone into college then, for my next class, but I slipped into a nearby café and studied the music over a late breakfast of a lightly toasted teacake and pot of Assam, which I couldn’t really afford.
The Ravenclaw was playable, and wouldn’t take me long to learn. For such early music, it was very Romantic in style “ it should have had a Renaissance tone to it at least, but it was chromatic and complicated. Obviously the magical world had different and more sophisticated music at that point in time. I would be interested to see what it was like now. I checked my watch and got up in a panic. It was later than I’d thought, and I needed to be at quartet practice.
I got in a few minutes late, owing to the fact that there was a tube delay (isn’t there always?) and the others were all set up. Jenna laughed at me. “I didn’t see you in History, but I knew you’d be here for quartet practice even if you were dying!” she joked.
I pulled out the Siegfried Ravenclaw book, and handed out parts. “I’m sorry I’m late. I know we’re studying the Mendelssohn right now, but I thought we could give this the once over and see what it sounds like. It looks interesting.”
I got out my cello in a hurry, and set up, while the others practiced bits and pieces.
After we had given the Mendelssohn a good solid hour, Jenna, who was having trouble with the timing in one section, and was fed up, suggested we try the Ravenclaw.
It was actually quite good. Different, but not too difficult to play. We all enjoyed it tremendously, and I was convinced that the music had been written enough in the same style to place it from the magical world too, although probably quite a bit later than the first piece. Afterwards the others decided that we would play that piece in concert as a foil for the Mendlessohn. “It’ll be different,” Jenna said cheerfully. “Make everyone sit up a bit. Never heard anything quite like it. Where did you dig it up?”
“I was just browsing,” I said vaguely. Suddenly I was wondering if I had made the right decision bringing the music here. It certainly was different music, and I didn’t want unwelcome attention. “But the library will want it back in a week or so, so we can’t use it.”
“Oh, don’t be so wishy washy,” said James. “You can renew it, can’t you? Anyway, let’s take the parts home and practice, and then we can decide when we meet on Thursday. We should know by then if it is feasible. My part could definitely do with some work if we expect to perform it. There is just something about the mood that I can’t get hold of, and I have never changed clefs so much in one piece before. I might take it in to my lesson tomorrow and let Starr look it over and see what he thinks.”
Samuel was already tucking his part into his violin case.
It was spiraling out of control. Oh well. The book had been in the Victoria Library for anyone to find. If we played it, it shouldn’t attract that much attention, if any. Muggles must have checked it out before. All the same, as I packed up I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I was lucky in finding an empty practice room, and after my scale routine immediately got out the Ravenclaw. Theoretically I should have been working on my Shostakovich, but I was burning to find out what Rowena Ravenclaw had written.
It was gorgeous. Hellishly difficult, but gorgeous. It was going to take a lot of work, and I knew I wanted to work on this piece. It was like thunder and lightening and water all at once. It had the sound of Scotland in it too.
I nearly died when the door suddenly opened, and I think I squeaked. It was Ben.
He looked taken aback. “Sorry. Weren’t you expecting me?”
I realized I was staring at him owlishly. “Oh, of course, I mean, not yet - I thought we were meeting at six?”
Ben looked at me a little oddly. “It is twenty past. I got held up outside class. What was that you were playing? I have never heard it before.”
For some reason I hedged. “Oh, some traditional music that was arranged for cello. I quite like it. I didn’t realize I had been working so long.”
I picked up the music as he walked around to look at it, blushing. I didn’t want him to see the name “Rowena Ravenclaw”. Hermione had impressed on me the need for utter secrecy. We didn’t want anyone else to become a target for Voldemort’s henchmen who operated under the name “Death Eaters”. Harry, Ron and Hermione were very security conscious where I was concerned too. I would make an easy target, especially as I was now sharing with a flat with Hermione. She was very secretive about Apparating to and fro. (That’s what she calls it when she appears with a bang in the kitchen out of nowhere and scares me half to death.)
Ben helped me to put my cello away, and then in true gentlemanly style insisted on carrying it for me as well as his viola. It was quite odd to be without that pressure on my shoulder, but I thought Ben might be upset if I insisted on carrying it myself. He seemed a little old fashioned.
We got on like a house on fire. It was wonderful. We ended up spending hours talking about any and everything over an Italian dinner at a little café that Ben insisted on paying for. And Ben asked me about Harry too “ he had noticed him!
“Who was that bloke you were with the other night? One with the messy hair and the scar?”
I hadn’t expected to be asked about Harry, and I am not a good liar. I can’t make up things on the spur of the moment, so what I ended up saying is “Er…Harris. Ron Harris. He is just a friend. I wasn’t with him. We were going on to a party with a group of friends. That is why I had to give you a rain check.”
“Oh.” Ben didn’t sound convinced. “It looked like a double date to me. Where do you know him from?”
By this time my brain was working better, and I took a drink of my coffee, which gave me an extra second to think. “Ron? Oh, we went to primary school together.”
“And you have never dated him at any time?”
I laughed. “No. Never. I have actually never dated anyone. I have never had time, what with my cello and everything.”
I mentally kicked myself. Why had I told him that? Goodness knows what he thought of me now.
But Ben didn’t seem put off. He was interested in me. He got me to tell him all about my school and what I got up to with my brothers in the summer and about how I found it hard to make real friends because of my constant practice. He told me about himself. He had just broken up with his girlfriend a few months ago, and had wanted to talk to me, but was just shy. (Imagine, Ben being shy of me!) He had first noticed my cello playing, and then noticed my eyes.
“They are incredible eyes,” he told me. “They reminded me of an old painting on a snuffbox that I found in a junk shop once while I was poking around. I brought it with me today, so that you could see it.”
He pulled out a box and slid it over the table to me. It gave me a shock. I could feel my hands growing icy. It was Rowena Ravenclaw. I didn’t pick the box up because I knew my hands would shake. I kept my hands down, studying the box on the table. It was a double shock, because I had never expected Ben to own a painting of Rowena, and secondly, because now the resemblance had been pointed out to me, I could see that I did indeed look like her. I needed to pull my hair back, and up out of the way, and I would look just like her.
What would Ben have to do with Rowena Ravenclaw? Was it a coincidence?
“What’s the matter?” Ben sounded worried. “Are you offended? I think she is beautiful. I thought you would be pleased.”
I controlled my voice with an effort. “No… It is just surprising to see somebody painted me on a snuffbox!” I was trying for a flirty tone, but my voice sounded strained, even to me.
Ben reached out and took the box back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it might upset you.” He sounded a little hurt. I took a deep breath, and managed to look up. His eyes were full of worry, but I couldn’t look into them for any length of time without feeling bashful, so I dropped my eyes again. What I really wanted was to go home now, but that would look odd, so I traced around the rim of my cup with my finger.
“I’m not upset. Just surprised. Maybe I should put my hair up like that sometime if I have a few hours to spare.”
Ben laughed with relief. “It does look elaborate, doesn’t it? All those pearls plaited into it?”
Things were back to normal. After a while Ben got up and helped me into my coat (he had obviously been very well brought up) and then escorted me back to the tube, where he hesitated a second or two, and then gave me my first kiss. It was absolutely incredible, and I don’t know how I managed to stand upright. It wasn’t until I had been on the tube for half an hour that I remembered the snuffbox.
It was the jarring note in an otherwise idyllic evening. It was a coincidence, and I didn’t like it. There had been far too many of them today. Finding the music, seeing the snuffbox. On the other hand life was composed of coincidences. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Hermione about the fact that my quartet wanted to play some Siegfried Ravenclaw or that Ben had a snuffbox with a painting of Rowena. Perhaps the snuffbox was just a lady that looked like Rowena. After all, it had been a Muggle painting. I had almost convinced myself not to tell Hermione about the snuffbox when I noticed that we were at Ealing Broadway, last stop and I had to get off in a hurry with my cello, before the conductor came to throw me off.
The Muggle and the Horcrux by Buckbeak22
Chapter Notes: