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Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-Sharp Minor "Moonlight" Op. 27/2 by L .V. Beethoven
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"Set me like a seal upon thy heart, love is as strong as death."
There was nothing but the crazed flurry of snow and the vicious howling wind to accompany the two heavily cloaked figures slowly weaving their way along a narrow sinuous path in the snow. Not even the moon that hid behind the turbulent clouds dared to ride the stormy night sky. Once more, the wind howled mournfully and made the gnarled branches of the looming trees creak and sway violently.
A deep chill settled the first traveler's bones, making him shiver suddenly. But more urgent thoughts for someone else made his hazel eyes flick beside him through his glasses, thinking that his companion called out to him. He stopped walking and searched worriedly the face of the one behind him, his deep concern evident. Strong guilt squeezed his insides, making something in his chest pound painfully.
'She didn't do anything to be here. She deserves so much better than to suffer,' he thought with remorse. But it wasn't the first time he told himself so.
'It can't be that far, Lily. We're almost there." He tried to strengthen her but his reassurance didn't reach inside him. Guilt only grew as she raised her eyes to his. The look from her glazed gaze made him want to kill himself. He was a damned fool to bring her to all of this.
Lily caught the flicker of pain that passed through James Potter's deep amber eyes and she knew what he was thinking. And this troubled her. How many times would she say to him that it was her choice as much as his was? She wanted to tell him this but it was impossible with the loud wind drowning the sounds from everything else. Instead, she took his hand and squeezed it with a smile behind her woolen scarves.
Her gentle reply gave him the resolve to go on. Arm in arm, they slowly went on in knee-deep snow through the woods.
For some time they kept on walking. Then, in the middle of nowhere, James saw finally what he was looking for.
To Lily's surprise, before her was a house. She didn't see it before. She shivered in her coat not only because of the icy wind but also from the stark coldness of the house itself.
It wasn't big or grand. It was just of the right size but she felt then that it was too big and somehow, hollow inside. The lines were all straight and everything seemed to have sharp edges. Even in the dark, its chalk-white paint stood out like the snow that surrounded them. It was a house built only for purpose, as a shelter, but not as a home.
Wishful thoughts entered Lily's mind. Perhaps she could soften the look by adding plants when spring came. Wisteria on the porch so that if the wind blows, lilac petals would sprinkle the floor, at the same time providing a shade. Then ivy vines to sprawl the walls and lots of roses in shades of red and yellow in the garden and sweet alyssum on the windowsills. Of course, the paint would have to go away and replaced with an eggshell white coat.
Perhaps… she could make it a home.
Icy fingers of the wind dug more deeply to her bones. But for now, she thought, she'd be happy to have just a roof over her head, a fire to thaw her frozen toes and something sweet and hot to warm her insides. A hot bath could wait until she had slept. She was already terribly weary.
But most importantly, she wanted her child to be with her.
She had to bite her lip to keep herself from thinking about their child. He was safe for sure, much safer than they were now. But there was something inside her-a most basic instinct-which made her stomach curl into a tight knot. She shook her head slightly and blinked back the hurt in her eyes and concentrated on walking. The tears held back yet the lump in her throat was still there.
Stopping at the door, James fished for something in his pocket and with his first smile for the day, an old, oddly shaped brass key was produced. With a definite click, the heavy wooden door was unlocked and he pushed it open before ushering both him and Lily inside.
The interior wasn't much different from the outside: the chalk-like paint, the stark bareness and cold, straight lines. Boxes of their previously sent belongings were piled up on the sides of the living room. The thin, spindly furniture was just as harsh and cold.
A gentle rapping at their heads by James followed by a warm trickling sensation signaled the lifting of the Disillusionment charm. Then he removed his outer clothes and boots in a manner as if they were at home once more, clearly relived that they were finally in their destination still in one piece. His cloak hung on a wooden stand near the doorway, his boots beside the stand. But then, he stopped what he was doing when he noticed that Lily was very still and quiet. She wasn't bothering to strip off her cloak and boots, not even her mittens.
The guilt returned with a vengeance as it clawed inside him. She was disappointed, James thought sullenly. Normally, people make comments about a house if they came inside one. But Lily stood there, unmoving and silent. He found it terribly disturbing.
His hands wandered to push of her hood and waves of molten copper hair flowed freely. He unwound her scarves so that at least her face was free from clothing, speaking while he was doing so.
"I know what you are thinking. It isn't much at all. But Dumbledore said it was the safest place for us to be, but I promise you that if-" The flow of words were stopped by the soft pressure of her single finger on his lips. He looked within her emerald eyes and knew there was no need for words so many. Even in the dim light reflected from the snow on the outside that gave a bluish hue, her eyes shone with love and faith in him.
"There's no need to be sorry. In fact, why won't you start a fire while I change my clothes for drier ones?" she murmured softly and affectionately squeezed his hand that was on her cheek.
He could only nod his assent before she left to find the bedrooms. He turned to the fireplace and waved his wand and instantly, a roaring fire came to life from the dried logs of the fireplace. Very soon, he had a kettle of tea setting to boil over the fire and he looked around him.
He had to fix the things by tomorrow, he told himself. But an aching feeling of weariness settled inside him that he had difficulty changing his clothes.
Pulling a sweater over his head, he couldn't help but see the simple gold band on his finger. It was somehow hard to believe that he was already married.
One almost surreal day of fall and the mellow golden sunlight filtered by shades of brown, yellow and red of the trees. He remembered how proud and ethereally beautiful Lily was by his side: a petite figure wrapped in a simple silk gown, face veiled by French lace. In the end, he sealed the ceremony with a single passionate kiss. But with his heart and soul put in the gesture and somehow he knew that she did the same thing. But she still wasn't his wife, yet. Gifts and congratulations were showered upon them heavily and most especially by his closest friends Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, his best man and best friend. But everything else passed in a blur except him and Lily.
Night came and they were all alone at last and he claimed her as his wife not only by words but also in full reality. Everything was cast aside and forgotten for the night was theirs alone. Moonlight, rumpled bed sheets, hushed whispers, fevered kisses, hands memorizing and bodies uniting as one. That night, their union was complete and their child was conceived though he did not know then.
One day, he was shocked and afraid seeing Lily suffer a bout of vomiting and fainting soon afterwards, frighteningly ashen and weak. Frantic that she might be deathly sick, he paced and ranted around her bedside. But as soon as she regained consciousness, she smiled at him and whispered that she was carrying a child-his child! He gaped at her for some moments before asking her again if she was really pregnant. An affirmative nod confirmed the truth and he was speechless again for some moments before his mind processed what she said. A loud laughter broke out from him and kissed Lily soundly before rushing to spread the news. Then the nine months of waiting in constant apprehension for his wife and the child she bore and for their safety.
Safety, he thought once more.
Safety was not n easy commodity during then and until now. Each day, Lord Voldemort increased in power and strength and his allies and minions growing in number as well. He could never know whom he could trust anymore, not even his acquaintances and friends, he was told. Everyone lived in fear and paranoia. A simple glance was as suspicious as a direct glare. This only increased his worry, doubts and fear.
Then, his son was born.
Personally, he thought that no one knew what ordeal he went through. His every nerve stood at its ends. He swore, cursed and nearly cursed the poor assistant healer who said carelessly that everything was fine.
How could everything be fine when Lily was crying out in pain and the child in her was as if clawing his way out to be born? What if something would go wrong and Lily might…die? He could never go on with his life. He might as well be dead himself.
After more than twelve hours of hellish torture, it was over.
The midwife called to him to see his son. The waiting was over and their child was born. But two emotions tried to overwhelm him at the same time: his eager desire to see for himself if they were well and a most inexplicable apprehension in seeing his son. Yet something inside him struck as he held his son for the first time. It was a part of himself, his own flesh and blood.
There were tears in his tired wife's face, though very weak, as she told him that their son looked exactly like him.
True. It was like looking in a mirror and his own reflection was blest suddenly with a life of its own. A scrawny tuft of jet-black hair, the lean frame and even the face was the same as his.
Then he blinked at James and he saw Lily's startling green eyes staring back at him. The boy was perfect a true Potter by blood and features and, judging by its stubborn cries, by attitude.
With so much pride and love, he showed off his son to the world. In the christening, the boy's name also carried his.
Harry James Potter.
He entrusted Sirius the role of being godfather. His best friend mischievously winked at him and tickled Harry until he gurgled in laughter. Who said godfathers only teach their godsons moral lessons? If Sirius was the godfather, expect the worst in Harry.
For a few short months, they were all happy and he somehow forgot about the shadows that crept stealthily, like poison in the veins.
Then he got the news. Voldemort's strongest followers, the Death Eaters, killed Marlene McKinnon and her whole family. Cruelly, brutally and without mercy.
It wasn't fair for the whole family to be murdered since it was only Marlene who was the member of the Order of the Phoenix. Every single one of her friends in the Order was bitter over their deaths.
The first thing that jumped to his mind was Voldemort and his Death Eaters torturing Lily and Harry. But Dumbledore came and strongly cautioned him against any rash actions triggered by his emotions, especially those concerning his family and the Order since it would only endanger them further. He said darkly that it wasn't far before Voldemort would try to kill them so he'd think of something for their safety.
These were the words he most feared but knew would come. And Lily and Harry would share his penalty.
Thrice he defied the Dark Lord already and he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
The Order was a group of people who opposed Voldemort with every ounce of their strength and being. And their duty was becoming heavier and more threatening as time passed. Despite all reasons, Lily joined the Order because of him thus risking herself just to be there for him, she didn't care if she was harmed. But he did. He persuaded her to back out but she asked him to trust her. In the end, he agreed, reluctantly and apprehensive but deep inside touched and grateful.
But now he had imperiled her.
He received orders directly from Dumbledore last week. They were to move to Godric's Hollow in the middle of a December night. That was tonight. They would be safe there. Sirius-also a member of the Order, along with Remus and Peter-was the Secret Keeper. They performed the Fidelius Charm, a complex and powerful spell that wouldn't reveal their hiding place unless the Secret Keeper would break it by telling the secret to the enemy.
Their belongings were packed and sent to a house. This house. Who knows how long will they live there? But at least they were safe.
As for Harry, he was given to Dumbledore before they left, considering that carrying him would further attract attention and delay them. They'd have to Apparate in the woods near the house to confuse anyone trying to tail them. The Invisibility cloak was out of the question because the wind was too strong so Disillusionment charm would be the best until they had reached the house.
He could tell it took a lot from Lily to give Harry to other hands, even for a short while. There were tears in her eyes she tried to hold but failed miserably as she kissed Harry good night. Even if she was going away, she never says good bye. It was always either a greeting or take care or something of the like. But never good bye or fare well. For her, it sounded final. She didn't like that. Especially if she was to say it to Harry who wasn't even a year old.
The kettle whistled shrilly and James snapped back to the present. Tea was ready and surely, Lily would be more than glad to have some. She needed it as well as his presence and comfort.
He walked upstairs to find her. One room was open so he went there. It was the master's bedroom and her clothes lay forlorn on the bed. But she wasn't there. "Lily?" he called out but there was no reply. A slight panic rose in him. He tried to calm himself by saying she was in the other rooms. He opened them one by one but Lily wasn't to be found. The panic he felt grew to a full alarm. She couldn't have been taken away! It just wasn't possible!
Then he found a stairs he didn't notice before, leading to the attic. Hoping she was there, he climbed up.
Sheer relief flooded him as he saw Lily's lithe figure sitting in front of a dusty piano lit by the moonlight from the overhead window. He resisted the impulse to lock her in his arms as if to assure him she was there. Instead, he sat quietly down beside her.
One moment, she was stiff and composed then Lily threw herself against him and broke into tears. "I want Harry back with us, in my arms…I won't forgive myself if something happens to him!" She cried between sobs on his shoulder.
James held her tight and tried to soothe her fears. Despite everything else Lily still thought of Harry. "He'll be here soon. You don't have to worry. He's safer with Dumbledore than with us. It's all right. He'll be fine." He murmured comfortingly in her ear. Soon, she stopped crying and, though regretfully, he removed his embrace.
For a while there was a peaceful silence. Lily lightly ran her fingers on the smooth ivory keys. "I always wanted to have a piano at home. I started taking lessons when I was still small but I if asked mum and dad to buy even a tiny one, Petunia would start throwing tantrums. So we never bought one. But I managed to finish taking my lessons." She told him with a soft, wistful smile on her lips.
"Play for me." He asked her, much to Lily's astonishment. "Please."
The way he said please wasn't a plea at all but a firm command but she hesitated. "I don't know if I'm still good at it."
"I'll be the judge, then."
She hit a few tentative keys and a scale. She looked at him and met his eyes as he nodded with encouragement.
A sad, flowing melody rose to fill the empty house, at first weak but as the notes flowed; it grew more definite and strong but still slow and haunting. Almost bittersweet and melancholic, he noted as he watched with fascination her fingers skim the ivory and ebony. Without a doubt it was difficult but she played with skill and ease. Finally, the last note faded softly to nothingness and silence reigned anew.
The moon now shone brightly over them in the throes of a dying storm and it lit the two figures sitting side by side in front of the piano in an attic of a house in Godric's Hollow.
"Do you miss your family?" he asked, breaking the silence. Somehow, the question wasn't appropriate for their shared moment. But she answered anyway.
"I wouldn't be human if I said no."
"Do you regret sometimes leaving them for me?"
Lily gazed lovingly in his inquiring deep brown eyes and leaned against him. "Isn't it obvious, Mr. Potter? I risked everything joining the Order and marrying you-meaning submitting my whole self and life to you-then underwent child labor to bear your son and followed you here and will still follow you wherever you will go, don't you think it is answer enough?"
Yes, it was enough, more than enough.
He cupped her face and murmured. "The piece you played was beautiful. But you are more than beautiful." He smiled and placed his lips on hers. He really didn't know what to do if she was not there beside him.
He finally broke away and asked Lily once more, who was leaning against him, folded in his embrace. "What are you thinking?"
"I was thinking that I could make this house a home with the three of us together. You, Harry and me. Perhaps more than three of us, if you want. By the time spring comes, the house needs plants to soften its look. Even if this were all over, I'd still like to stay here. I like it here." She told him softly.
And to think he thought she hated it here.
"Everything is going to be all right from now on, Lily. Everything will be fine as long as we have each other. And we'll be here together for always." His hands threaded through the silky copper strands of her hair and placed a light kiss on her forehead, hoping and praying with all his heart that he could fulfill that promise.