| lupercus @ 2002-12-30 16:37:00 |
| Current mood: |  loved |
| Current music: | "It's Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)," U2 |
A Rooftop Lullaby
They say - the Muggles say - that Christmas is when real magic happens. And when you're a wizard, you tend to take magic for granted, because it's a part of your everyday life. I admit it, I do that myself, sometimes.
I won't make that mistake ever, ever again.
Attempted to visit my Grandmum up in Edinburgh, however after only a few hours of subverted gazes, hushed whispers in my wake, and backhanded compliments from well-meaning yet idiotic relations, I thought it best to return to Hogwarts. Grandmum did bestow upon me a morsel of her famed Christmas bread, which is I suppose a blessing - at least, for the Owlery. The rest of the Yuletide, I supposed, I would spend alone in my chambers with a nice fire and a thick book.
Yet, something kept me from feeling settled. I don't quite know what it is, and have since decided that I'm not meant to. I simply could not sit still, and so I went for a stroll. Or, rather, a climb.
Back in school, whenever I was lonely or distraught, or simply weary of my fellow students, I would break a few school rules (who, me?) and dispatch myself to the roof. There's a specific spot, which I will not name, that was my preferred roost for the better part of seven years. It offers a pleasant view and silence, two things a boy needs when life becomes simply too much to bear.
Imagine my surprise to find the spot already occupied. I'd forgotten that, in our fourth or fifth year, Sirius began accompanying me to the rooftop. Apparently, old habits die hard.
I don't think he knew I was there, at first, so I just watched him. It wasn't Sirius, actually, but Padfoot, and he seemed entranced by the snow falling. When he took notice of me he transformed back into Sirius, and things... were said. Terrible things, true things, things long overdue. I do not regret saying them, but I do regret having to.
Then, suddenly, from Hogsmeade came the sound of bells. It drifted down over us on the backs of snowflakes, and in those bells I heard a simple word ring true:
Forgiveness.
Further details, anyway, are frankly nobody's business but ours. Suffice it to say, my holiday has vastly improved, the new year looks promising, and I could have asked for no better gift than an evening on a rooftop, in the snow, watching Christmas settle over the countryside. Completed.
Happy holidays, Hogwarts, and goodnight.
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