Dark Come Soon

Alexandra paced around her father’s private chamber, stopping every so often to shoot a nervous glance at a nearby teacup. It was resting on the coffee table, seemingly inoffensive, but inside that teacup were leaves that would reveal the future to Alexandra, her future. She’d spent days debating whether or not she’d go through with reading her own future, unsure of whether or not she wanted to take the risk, but after nearly a week of arguing with herself, she decided to put the kettle on the stove and put her abilities to use. Problem was that as soon as she finished the last drop of her tea, she shut her eyes tightly and placed the cup onto the coffee table, no longer sure that reading her future was what she wanted to do.

She was terrified of what she might see inside the cup, of whether her future was as dark and complicated as Ramona’s. She thought that maybe her future would be a bright one, but whenever that thought crossed her mind, it was silenced by another one that said that there was a war raging and that if the wrong people were to find out she was a proper seer, she’d be in danger. It was that possibly, which she pondered as she resumed her pacing around. Nothing had happened to her mother during the last war, because Dumbledore took her into Hogwarts, he extended his protection to her. Did that mean that Dumbledore would protect her? Was he keen on keeping her around to get insight into the future? Perhaps to even figure out how he could go about changing it? No. That couldn’t have been. There was no changing the future. It was set in stone and everything that happened, occurred to fulfill it.

As she started her seventeenth walk around the room, the door opened and her father walked in. Andrés shot her a curious look, unsure of why she looked so deep in thought. He knew she’d been on edge lately, but this behavior was strange, even for her standards. So he slipped off his white coat, hanging it on the appropriate rack and then slowly stepped towards her.

“Alex,” he called to her. “What are you doing?”

“Oh. Hey dad,” she stopped walking, turning her head to the left to better look at him. “I was just, uh, walking around. Doing some exercise, you know, keep the blood going and stuff.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“Guess it wasn’t a good lie.”

“Not even a believable lie.” He smiled tenderly. “What’s wrong little bird?”

A bright grin swept across her face. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

“Thought you outgrew it, but right now, I sort of decided that you’ll always be my little bird. So, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, not really, I'm just – I guess, I wanted to read my future.” Alexandra blurted out. “Thought it’d be cool to know what’s coming, but now I'm freaking out because I don’t know if I want to know. You know? That doesn’t make any sense. Does it? Probably not, nope, doesn’t make any, I never make any sense.”

“Hold on a moment. You were going to read your future? How?” he asked, his smile vanishing and replaced by a concerned look.

“With tea leaves,” whispered Alexandra.

“Tea leaves?” his eyes narrowed when the landed on the cup. “Did your mother tell you to do that?”

“No, she didn’t. I mean, she taught me how to do it, but she didn’t tell me to read my own. I just wanted to know what’s in store for me, but if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t actually read the leaves, couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Andrés picked up the cup and glanced inside it, seeing nothing extraordinary in its contents. “You shouldn’t try to read your future or anyone’s.”

“But I –”

“Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should.” He sighed. “I can only imagine how tempting it must be to glance into the future, but little bird, the future is meant to be a surprise. What fun would there be in life if we knew exactly what was going to happen a day from now, a year?”

“I only wanted to make sure I’d be safe.”

“You will be.” He patted to the seat beside him on the couch.

“How can you be so sure of that, dad?” she took a seat beside him and looked up at his face.

“Because there’s nothing in this world I care more about than your safety.” He told her. “I know we may not be together as often as we used to be, but your dad is always looking out for you. You’ve been my life all these years, little bird, and you’ll continue to be so until my last breath.”

Alexandra clamored into his arms, resting her head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He smelled like coffee. That was his signature scent, coffee and cinnamon.

“Now promise me, you won’t be looking into your future or anyone else’s. I understand that you’re a seer, and that making prophecies is something you can’t control, but these things, the ones you can choose whether or not to do, shouldn’t be done.”

“Promise I won’t do anymore,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Whose have you done?” he pulled away, surprise apparent in his face.

Alexandra smiled sheepishly. “Only mom’s . . . and Ramona’s . . . “she replied.

“Aye (oh) Alex,” he shook his head.

“It’s okay though. They wanted me to do it. And I'm not gonna do it anymore. I promise. From now on it’ll just be me zoning out and not reading tea leaves.”

“If I find out you’ve been reading them, I’ll ground you.” He threatened, though he wasn’t exactly sure how it was that he could ground her.

“I won’t.”

“And if your mother says that you can, I still don’t –”

“Come on, dad, as if I’d pay attention to her, over you.”

Andrés smiled, pleased that he was still the favorite parent. “So what are your plans for today?”

“There’s only one. I'm gonna mean Ron at the Great Hall. I promised that I’d watch him practice awhile back so I'm making good on that promise. Why are you smiling like that? Ramona shot me that same smile when I told her – oh no, not you to.”

“What? I haven’t said anything.”

“But you’re thinking it. I know you’re thinking it.

“I'm not thinking anything.” He smiled.

“It’s not like that.”

“Of course it’s not,” he said.

“Really dad, it’s not. He’s just a friend, and –”

“And you brought him a present from home.” He reminded.

“Because he let’s me sketch him. He deserves for letting me sketch that face of his. Okay that didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean and I'm going to get going. I’ve got things to do. Things to sketch,” she muttered, standing from her seat. “Are we still having brunch tomorrow?”

Andrés nodded. “Try to be here by 10:30.”

“Will do,” she pecked her father’s cheek and slung her messenger bag across her shoulder. “Bye dad!”

Alexandra left the Hospital Wing and then trudged down the countless flights of stairs to get to the Great Hall, where Ron stood waiting for her. Her eyes flickered with delight when she saw him wearing one of the jerseys she’d brought him. Green was definitely his color. The moment his eyes landed on her face, a massive grin broke across his face, seemingly engulfing it all.

“It fits!” she said, excitedly.

Ron nodded. “Yeah, fits brilliantly. Got it in just my size,” he added, nervously.

“I must have a good eye then, at guessing sizes,” she added, hastily. “So, are we waiting for Harry or someone else?”

“He’s already at the pitch.” Ron answered. “My sister’s going to be there to, Ginny. Have ya met her?”

“Once, briefly,” she said. “She seemed nice.”

“To strangers,” he smiled the sort of smile that made her stomach do flips. “She’s brilliant though. And she’ll take a liking to you. You’re interesting, you are, and nice.”

“You think I'm nice?”

“Well, yeah,” his ears reddened.

“Should we get going then?” she asked, filling the silence.

“Yeah, good idea, don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Have you finished the paper for charms?” she asked him as they walked towards the exit.

“Haven’t even started it,” he replied, honestly. “Reckon I’ll do it tomorrow night. Not due till Monday afternoon so there’s time. Have you finished?”

“I jotted down a few lines last night, but haven’t done any real progress on it. I'm a really bad procrastinator, and it’s weird, because all the other Ravenclaws do their work early and they’re so into it. I feel like I'm the only one that doesn’t finish their work days in advance.”

“They’re mental like that, they are.” Ron commented. “But I reckon it’s the stress of being a Ravenclaw. Everyone sort of thinks everyone in there is brilliant.”

“You say brilliant a lot, brilliant and bloody hell.” Alexandra commented.

“Do I?”

She nodded. “And you get this look when you say bloody hell, it’s almost as if you’re afraid you’re gonna get in trouble for it.”

“I would, well, at home, I would. Mum doesn’t fancy us using that language. Says it’s not right. Still use it, mind you. Just that mum throws a fit, sometimes even chucks a spoon.”

“She throws spoons?” her eyes twinkled in delight.

Ron nodded. “Other day got me right on the forehead, walked around with the mark on my head, I did. Are you – are you laughing?”

“Can’t help it,” she said between her laughter. “I had a visual of you just walking with a perfect spoon indent on your forehead, it was pretty fucking funny.”

“Well, it wasn’t that funny when it happened. Wait a minute. Did you just curse? I’ve never heard you curse.”

“I curse a lot. I just don’t talk that much, so people don’t really get to hear me use those words. I remember when Ramona heard me curse for the first time, she was all freaked out.” Alexandra chuckled at the memory. “I guess people don’t expect it since I'm quiet and have an innocent face.”

“It is lovely – innocent.” Ron quickly corrected, hoping his error went unnoticed by her. “Have you ever played Quidditch?”

“A few times, though, I'm really bad at it. I'm better at muggle sports than magical ones. I'm great at football. I’ve played since I was five, well, since before then, but it was when I was five that I started playing on a team and I did baseball, but I didn’t really like it, only did it because my dad was so into it.”

“I’ve never heard of baseball.”

“You’re not missing out on anything.” Alexandra said. “Then again, you might like it, a lot of people like it.”

“Well if you didn’t like it, I reckon I won’t. Seems we’ve got a bit in common, so I probably won’t.” he mumbled, awkwardly.

Ron spent what was left of their walk, trying not to embarrass himself any further, which was easier said than done. He kept tripping over his words, finding it difficult to say what he wanted to say, without sounding like a blithering fool. Luckily for him, they reached the Quidditch pitch soon enough, and Ginny and Harry took off some of the pressure from him. They talked with Alexandra, asking her how she was doing. Ginny struck up conversation, asking about how Ravenclaw was going and telling Alexandra that she just had to visit Gryffindor tower one of these days. Ginny, of course, was doing it because she wanted to get to know the witch that her brother was so keen on.

Conversation eventually died down, and Alexandra wandered over to the stands where she pulled out her sketch book and pencil. She sat in silence, staring over at the goal posts as Ginny tried to score points on Ron. She wished she knew how to ride a broom that well, but her clumsiness on a broom always kept her from excelling at it, and a broken arm that she’d sustained during a session of Quidditch at school, had made it so that her father would never get on a broom again.

She spent most of the practice sketching, getting a few pieces of the stadium done, as well as some of Ron hovering in front of the posts. She was close enough to make out his face, his basic form, but couldn’t really see the details of his face so she drew from memory. She was surprised by how easy it was to remember the look of his eyes, the way his lips curled into a smile. His face was ingrained in her mind and it was embarrassing. She shouldn’t know his face as well as she did, but he was her muse. Ever since he’d come into her life, she was sketching away, drawing and painting. She was even thinking of resuming her sculpting and ceramic work, but with no studio at Hogwarts, knew that to be impossible.

When practice ended, Harry and Ginny walked off, telling Alexandra that they hoped she’d join them for dinner at the Gryffindor table. She accepted their offer, mustering a big a smile as she could and then watched as they walked away, their figures shrinking in the distance.

“You guys are really good.” Alexandra commented. “I'm sure those other teams aren’t going to stand a chance.”

“I hope not.” He smiled. “Were you bored?”

“No, I wasn’t. I actually got a few sketches done. It was good to be out here, there’s a lot to see.”

“There is.” Ron agreed. “There’s even more to see from up high. If you want – I mean, I could get you a broom and we could go for a fly.”

“I’m not a good flier.” Alexandra admitted, embarrassed. “Last time I was on a broom I broke an arm.”

“Oh, right.” He grew thoughtful for a moment. “There’s another way. I mean, we both on a broom. How about that?” he offered, nervously.

Alexandra wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk it, but he was staring at her with such fondness and hope that she found herself unable to say no to him. Her dad was going to be upset when he found out that she’d mounted a broom, but she’d deal with that later.

“Okay, but if I break any bones, I'm going to hex you. Might not be a good flier, but I know my way around hexes.”

Ron chuckled. “Sounds fair enough, to me, just hold on tight. And we should probably hide your messenger bag. It might fly off, if you take it up there.”

“Is it okay if I stash it under your towel?”

Ron said it was fine, and she hid her bag from view with it, also adding a protective charm that would keep others from stealing it. She took in a deep breath, readying herself for what was to come, and then walked back over to Ron, whom had already mounted the broom. She stared at him nervously, second guessing herself, but then he smiled, and she felt her nervousness vanish. She slid in behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He’d changed into the other jersey that she’d brought him, so he wasn’t that sweaty. And then, after giving her fair warning, they took off. She let out a shriek of surprise, burying her face into his back, thinking that that would offer her protection.

“S’alright,” he reassured her. “Won’t let a thing happen to you, I promise.”