Hermione was furious with me.
“Honestly Lauren! I would have thought you’d have more sense. Here we all are trying to be as security conscious as possible and you start strewing out magical music.”
I tried to defend myself, uneasily conscious of having had the same thoughts myself. “It was in a Muggle library. It is Muggle music. Nothing moves for gosh’s sake!”
Hermione gave me a withering glance. “You know very well that “Ravenclaw” isn’t a name that most people recognize in musical circles.” She held her fingers up and put in the quote marks for “Ravenclaw”. She knows I hate it when she does that.
I scowled. “But it is a Muggle book in the library, and I am sure other people have played it. After all, you said it was highly unlikely to have any real magical music in the library at Victoria. And once I had found it, it would be silly if we didn’t actually try to play it to see what it sounded like. I can’t sneak everything I find at the library out under my coat. I only did that with the Horcrux book, because I didn’t think the librarian would let me have it.”
I got out my cello, “Anyway, I will play you the music, and you can tell me what you think.”
I played her the Rowena Ravenclaw piece that had made such an impression on me, but Hermione seemed to have relaxed. “I don’t see that it is so different to anything else you play,” she said, surprising me.
Of course, Hermione hasn’t studied music like me. I tried to point that out to her, but she was too relieved to listen.
“I don’t think it is obviously magical at all,” she said firmly, “and the books definitely aren’t. They are just old. Who are the publishers? Quavers & Cleff? I’ll look them up on the web. And the snuffbox was probably just your imagination. After all, Rowena Ravenclaw wouldn’t have had a painting done by a Muggle. Lots of people look alike.”
“But,”- I began. She cut me off.
“I’m a bit worried about the way you are identifying yourself with Rowena Ravenclaw,” she said in her bossy way. “It seems to be becoming a bit of an obsession.”
I had wondered about that myself, but hearing Hermione say it out loud made me angry.
“Well, how do you know I am not descended from her? I certainly look like her.” I had a moment of inspiration. “I think she fell in love with a Muggle and of course not all the children would have been pure blood magicians. That is why she wrote music that crossed magical and Muggle lines and why she had her painting done by a Muggle. And this music is different. Different in a way that my friends at the Academy saw immediately.”
Trying to undermine Hermione’s confidence in her own judgment is completely futile, but she did look worried to my momentary satisfaction - before I found she was barking up a different tree to the one I hoped I had run her up.
“Lauren, you are completely going off the deep end. Rowena Ravenclaw never married. She had no descendants”
“How do you know she didn’t have a Muggle marriage?” I asked annoyed at what I saw as an anti-Muggle implication.
Hermione’s eyes opened wide. “Lauren “ this is Rowena Ravenclaw we are talking about. Just one of the most famous witches in our world…”
By now I was furious. “So that is it? One of your famous witches would never have married one of my kind? What, are we beneath you?”
I knew it was my insecurities talking, and the fact that I was guilty about giving out Ravenclaw quartet parts, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “So now I know what you think of me! Well, I can tell you till I am blue in the face, but you are so much more clever and talented than I am that you can discount the fact that I know this is obviously not Muggle music! Hey, but what do I know? I am just a dumb musician, and a Muggle one at that.”
Hermione’s face was white now, and I knew I should stop myself, because I knew deep down that she really didn’t see me as inferior, and it was my own confidence problem, but by now I had started to cry, and the words just seemed to pour out anyway.
“I know I am not good enough for you any more. Why do you bother with me? All I do is endanger your quest and pull stupid pranks like looking for Ravenclaw music. Why don’t you just Obliviate me, or whatever it is you do, and I will go back and play music at the Academy and forget everything I ever knew about you? Then you can mix with your real friends without embarrassment again.”
Hermione looked stricken, her mouth practically hanging open at such an unfair attack, and I couldn’t stand it any more. I turned and dashed upstairs to my room. Probably by tomorrow I would have a modified memory, and that would be that.
I was wrong too. About the Horcrux being in Rowena’s music. And probably wrong about the fact that I looked like her. I don’t know why I wanted to be related to her so much. I think I wanted to be connected to what Hermione, Ron and Harry were connected to just a little bit.
No. To be strictly truthful I knew I wanted to be connected to the magical world “ to have just a little of what the others all had. It seemed so unfair! I was horribly jealous. I struggled to overcome it.
I had just managed to hiccough my way to silence when I heard the distinctive whoosh of the Floo, and then male voices. Harry and Ron. Then Hermione. Poor Hermione. She sounded as if she had been crying too.
I sat up and blew my nose. I really owed her an apology. I had been a complete bitch. It wasn’t Hermione’s fault that I wasn’t a witch, and would never be able to do any magic, and I had no right to take it out on her. However, it was hard to go downstairs again, knowing that I looked as red eyed as I felt, and that she had probably told Harry and Ron everything. I felt like a complete worm.
Harry and Ron and Hermione sat around the kitchen table all looking serious. Hermione did look a little damp, and held a handkerchief. It made me want to sniffle again, but I said right out, “I’m sorry, Hermione. I shouldn’t have said all that. I feel terrible, because you didn’t deserve any of it.”
Both boys looked so relieved it would have been amusing if I hadn't felt so wormish. Hermione sniffed herself, but smiled at me in a watery way.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been so sure you were wrong. You may have a point. If Rowena had married a Muggle man, there wouldn’t necessarily have been any mention of it in the wizarding world. But her name wouldn’t have been Ravenclaw if she had married, would it? Especially in those times.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I was suddenly feeling a little stupid.
Hermione carried on however, “but I was looking at pictures just now, and you do look uncannily like her. Maybe she had a brother. And we are going to check out your Horcrux theory as well. After all, we are checking everything else, and it makes as much sense as anything else does. And I can’t find Quavers & Clef on the Internet as a publisher, even in old book stores.”
I sniffed, feeling tears well up again this time in relief. “Does this mean you aren’t going to Obliviate me after all?”
“No way!” said Ron immediately with feeling. “If you don’t read all those books and make notes, Hermione will expect Harry and me to do it.”
Hermione made a face and elbowed him, and Ron pretended she had mortally wounded him, and fell off his chair.
I started to feel better. Harry was still looking at me speculatively. “I wouldn’t worry that you are a Muggle,” he said gently as Hermione pulled Ron up off the floor. “Wizards and Muggles get married all the time, and they wouldn’t if they thought Muggles were inferior, would they?”
That made me feel even better. “Really?”
Harry nodded. “One of our friends has a witch for a mother and a Muggle for a father. Seamus.” he added at an enquiring look from Ron.
I sat down next opposite Hermione, and reached over the table to her. She took my hand and squeezed it. I gave a sigh of relief. Friends again.
We had another late night, but didn’t get too much done. I played the cello piece to Ron and Harry at Hermione’s request, but neither of them was musical either, so they didn’t notice any difference. Ron wouldn’t have anyway. He had only ever heard the kind of music I played! However, they were now willing to take my word for it that it was from their world. After all, as Harry put it, I was the resident expert, and Hermione was still trying to be conciliatory, which made me feel a bit bad, because the whole argument had been totally my fault.
Being Hermione however, she probably knew how I felt about the whole magic thing and was trying to make me feel that I fit in.
Harry was very interested in Ben, but after rigorous questioning, we eventually agreed to regard the snuffbox as a coincidence. It was only my extremely guilty conscience that had me mentioning something else that was bothering me that I would far rather have left unsaid.
“Ben is rumored to have a tattoo on his arm. That is why he keeps his sleeves down now.” I bit my lip. “I haven’t seen anything, and I don’t know anyone else who has, but I can’t help wondering...”
The interest quickened somewhat.
“He couldn’t be a wizard could he?” I asked hesitantly.
Ron answered slowly. “I wouldn’t have thought so. If he were a Death Eater, which is what I think you are referring to, he surely wouldn’t have asked you out?” He looked at me apologetically. “You already know they are weirdos who think that Muggles are inferior. All the same, I wish we could be sure about the tattoo.” He and Harry looked at Hermione, as everyone did in moments of uncertainty.
“Wouldn’t he have gone to Hogwarts if he were a wizard?”
Hermione looked unsure. “We haven’t any music at Hogwarts. Perhaps he needed to accept Muggle training if he is. I will have to ask McGonagall what happens if a wizard studies music. I never read about any music schools for wizards, but then it isn’t a subject that I have researched at all.” She shook herself and turned to me briskly.
“Looks as if you are on your own for this one, Lauren. I don’t think he can be a wizard, but you have to be careful. Find out as much as you can, without seeming to. I could wish he hadn’t seen Harry, but he has. And I’ll see if I can find anything about Ravenclaw music in our library at Hogwarts. The chances are that Ben has nothing to do with anything in the wizarding world, but do look out for yourself! I know you really like him, and I do appreciate your having told us this, it must be hard for you.”
She didn’t know how hard.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
During the night, as you do, I remembered why the name Ravenclaw sounded so familiar. I rang my Dad the next morning at work, before I left for college. “Dad, you know the genealogy you were putting together? Have we any relatives called “Ravenclaw”?”
My Dad’s voice boomed back down the line, reassuring and strong and unmagical. “Hello Lauren, and nice to hear from you too. I was telling you about the Ravenclaw branch only a few months ago. Remember? Seems to have been a musical family. I was telling you that you might have inherited your musical abilities from them. They were a Scottish family that are first documented in a parish church in Kilbride.”
Relief washed over me. I had been attracted to the name Ravenclaw because I had heard it before, not because I had suddenly become obsessed with the name. I was related to Rowena Ravenclaw. At least, in all probability I was. I asked him without much hope, “Are there any Rowena Ravenclaws?”
Surprisingly he answered, “Funny you should say that. The name does run in the family. The Ravenclaws died out, but the last Rowena married a Bartram, and they continued the name for a few generations after that. Then we have all the Emilys and Elizabeths. Why did you want to know? I thought you weren’t interested in my research?”
“I’m sorry Dad, I get lost when you start quoting numbers or parish records.” I crossed my fingers behind my back out of habit. “I just found a Siegfried Ravenclaw, and wondered if he could be related.”
I could practically hear my father thinking down the phone line. “It does ring a bell, but I’m afraid I can’t remember. I’ll have to look it up tonight when I get home. I’ll give you a ring. Everything going all right your end Lauren? You sound a bit out of sorts.”
“No, everything is fine,” I reassured him. “In fact I finally got a date with Ben Stranger.”
“Oh crikey, here we go,” my father groaned. “Not the Ben you have been blathering on about non-stop for the last umpteen years?”
I smiled smugly. “The very same! He thinks I have beautiful eyes.”
There was a pause, and then my father said, “I don’t think I want to hear this Lauren. I was hoping you would have an unavailable crush on him until you were sixty and then marry a hard working decent guy and have lots of kids.”
“I love you too Dad. Tell Mum will you? She’ll find it exciting. I won’t be able to call tonight, because I’m going to a concert, but I will call again when I can.”
“Haven’t you run out of money yet?”
I laughed. “Close, but not quite. Hopefully not for a while. I am usually too busy working to spend any, and there are loads of ways of getting concert tickets free if you know the right people.”
“That’s my girl, that’s what I like to hear. Listen darling, I have to go now. Say “hi” to Hermione for us will you, and don’t let Ben do anything I would have done at his age will you?” That made me giggle.
“Love you Dad. Speak to you soon.”
I was enormously cheered by this conversation, enough to eat breakfast, which I normally don’t. Hermione is always on at me about that, saying that it isn’t healthy, but I am really not a morning person. However, today I was feeling heaps better, and ready to believe that all my fears were groundless, so I got out a packet of chocolate digestives and munched on them while I drank coffee. The snuffbox incident was certainly odd, but stranger things happen. And Ben had not pumped me about Harry really. It was just that he was worried about Harry being a rival. After all, he had been perfectly upfront about asking. And I would just simply ask about the tattoo. After all, I supposed I was his girlfriend now, and it would be natural for me to ask about a college rumor.
After that I would have practiced at home until my first class, which wasn’t until midday, but out of consideration for our downstairs neighbor who was a nurse on night duty who slept during the day, I caught the tube in to college.
I got out the Ravenclaw again, and spent some time on it. I found it even more exciting now that I knew she really might be a distant relative. In fact, I was still practicing when Katy burst in on me.
“I could tell it was you by the tone of that cello. We’re going to be late for orchestration. Why don’t you ever look at your watch?”
Well, I like that! I was hardly my fault she was going to be late, but I didn’t say anything. Katy was like that. I packed up my cello in double quick time, and we hared off to our class. I actually like orchestration, and so it was an agreeable hour, followed by a harmony class, and then my piano lesson, which I don’t like so much. I love my cello, but am required to take a second instrument. As far as I can see it, any time I spend practicing the piano takes away from my cello time, and so I am the despair of my piano teacher.
After that, I went down to see if I could get a practice room, but even though we have hundreds, they were all occupied. You have to get here early to get a practice room. Ben was playing away, and I thought of interrupting him, but I know what I am like when I am interrupted in the middle of practice, so I didn’t. On my way back down the corridor however, he caught sight of me through the glass, and called me in.
I opened the door, and immediately knocked a music stand flying with my cello case, but he didn’t seem to mind. He picked up the music stand saying amiably; “I see I will have to protect my viola while you are around,” and then he kissed me good morning. Now, without my worries of last night, I was able to respond more enthusiastically, and he opened his eyes. “Wow. You pack a punch today Lauren.” He stepped back again to look at me. “You even look different. Are you having a good day?”
I sat down in a chair happily. “I am. I hope you are.”
“Well, I am now!” Ben rearranged the music stands. “You know the rule; no fraternizing in practice rooms, and Weatherby has been prowling by to check. Have you got anything for viola and cello? Because I have.” He looked a bit smug. He had obviously been doing some research in his spare time, and it made me feel all gooey on the inside. He whipped out some Hindemith, and I tuned up and sat down.
“I have just realized why you wear long skirts all the time!” Ben exclaimed as I positioned my cello. “Because you need them to play the cello.” I looked at him, puzzled, and he reddened.
“I was wondering if you ever showcased your legs,” he explained. “You have really long legs, but nobody ever gets to see them because of the skirts.”
I blushed vividly. Actually, because I am so clumsy, my legs are usually bruised and I have scars on my knees, but maybe one day I would put on tights to disguise that and wear a short skirt when we went out. My legs were nicely shaped after all. I kind of liked the fact that he wanted to see them too.
I left him guessing, and we started work on the Hindemith. Playing with Ben was exhilarating. It was so much fun, it was with reluctance that I looked at my watch. I didn’t want to stop, but Jian Wang was playing the Brahms Double with Gil Shaham, and I had a ticket and didn’t want to miss it.
“I have to go to a concert.”
Ben looked up. “Don’t say you are going to the Brahms at the South Bank?”
I nodded, and he leapt up enthusiastically. “So’m I. We can go together. How about stopping at a café for something to eat? I’m starving. Where are you going to leave your cello? In the cloakroom?”
I stopped him, a little red in the face. “I don’t know about the café, Ben. It is my turn to pay, and I would really like to, but I don’t have much money right now.”
He stopped in his tracks for a moment as if I had hit him, and turned amazed eyes onto me. “I wouldn’t let you pay Lauren! I worked all summer as a life guard, and I am rolling in it “ at least until the end of term, whereupon I’ll have to live upon my wits, but I certainly don’t take a girl out and expect her to pay.”
It was the most positively bird-witted point of view if I had ever come across one. I pointed that out to him, and he grinned, but insisted he was going to pay. I agreed in the end, as he was starting to be annoyed, but rather uneasily. I am used to paying my own way. He insisted on carrying my cello again, and again it felt odd. This time he agreed to let me carry his viola though, so I felt a bit better about it. We held hands all the way there.
The café was fun, and Ben and I got on so well I completely forgot all my fears of the night before.
He kissed me again as he dropped me off at the tube after the concert, and I realized on the way home that I hadn’t even thought about my quest all day. I felt a little guilty as I remembered how I was going to ask Ben about the tattoo. Oh well. I would see him tomorrow, and today had been too good to spoil, Voldemort or no Voldemort.
Hermione wasn’t around when I got home, so I made some Earl Grey tea, found a banana and some stuffed grape leaves and took them up to bed with a book on Music Theory and read for a bit before falling into a deep untroubled sleep.
The Muggle and the Horcrux by Buckbeak22
Chapter Notes: I am trying to stay canon here, and there has been no mention of any musical training at Hogwarts, or any other musical wizarding colleges, yet Dumbledore loves string quartets. Where would young wizards learn these?