Taste of Youth

The first time I saw the inside of Hogwarts was after my brothers funeral. I remember the way my mothers back stayed stiff as a board, the way my step-fathers hands clenched and unclenched like they were trying to do his breathing for him. I remember the way I felt small under the sweeping ceilings and spiral staircases. I remember the way it felt nothing like the humid Salem summers, the way it felt nothing like home. It felt a little strange to be wandering the halls I had heard so much about in Liam’s letters. Stories of students hallway shenanigans came to life in front of me. I just wish I could have seen them in color like they were meant to be seen.

“For fucks sake, Sirius, if you’re going to charm the knights into song at least make it interesting.”

“Come on, Peter, what part of Oh Holy Knights isn’t interesting.”

“The part where it started I imagine.”

“Fine, I’ve got something better.”

I screamed when the knight leapt from its place and nearly took me out with a merrily swung battle axe. It was only slightly more startling when the entire hallway exploded into a baritone of, “Please ol’ lady won’t you oil me.” One very startled boy leaned around the corner, his eyes catching sight of my careful dodges around the horrible choreography. It was a gentle tug on the back of my purse strap that pulled me out of range of the swinging metal limbs. Shoving the length of my hair back away from eyes, I attempted something that was vaguely a smile that the group of boys in front of me.

“Sorry, are you alright?”

“Sorry? That was a front seat!”

I blinked, “To what the worst musical this side of the Atlantic?”

The tall boy leaning against the banister frowned deeply, his face colored with offense, “Well that’s quite rude.”

“So is forcing a hallway of performing knights on the world but that didn’t stop you.” I frowned back at him.

Two curled lips, a deepened frown, a soft snicker. I was trying to figure out where each of these boys ended and the other began but it was hard. People were so difficult, I wanted to go home. They reminded me of Liam’s old friends and the boys back home that crowded the hallways. I turned part of the way towards the faintly arguing voices in my brothers classroom, old classroom, used to be classroom. I squinted at the back of my mothers cream colored cardigan and thought about the way Liam hated the people in his classroom right now. His funeral had been like that too, people he didn’t like, people who didn’t like him, everyone crying and saying how sorry they were he was gone. God, I hated this place.

The knights started malfunctioning mid twirl, twitching and slamming into one another. Chaos, symphonic sounds of metal exploding against metal fist. Wrong. My mother was hovering in the doorway looking at me with eyes too soft for who she was. Wrong. I could hear the boys behind me arguing about what had caused this insanity. Someone in the back of the classroom called for us to move away. A knight hovered in front of me arm already half way swung, twitching. I pressed my hand into my forehead, voices sounding just a little too panicked, irritation boils blood.

“Shut. Up.”

My voice snarled through my teeth all razors and thunder. The knights arm hit the ground seconds before the end of its swing, the others snapped to attention and wandered back into their proper places. Silence, finally silence. I’d never been so annoyed in my life. I turned part way around and tried to school my expression back into some sort of apology. The boys looked so calm watching me with careful eyes, different from the huddle of adults headed toward us.

I tilted my head up towards the frowning boy and in a voice too level for what I felt like said, “Apologizes.”

The adults descended on us, my mother all fluttering hands and unnatural touches. The man with the long beard was staring at me, eyes sparking with something of interest. My mood soured farther. He addressed the boys behind me by name: Petigrew, Lupin, Potter, Black. The lady who looked a lot like worn leather was talking frantically about how much there was still left to do, paper work and gathering. I try to remember that my mother isn’t used to this, the magic that existed out of fairy tales. I wish the people around me knew that too so that the two woman in gem colored cloaks would stop looking at her like she had wandered in by mistake.