Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

Sylvia sat in Defense class and stared blankly at the pages of her book, the words swimming before her eyes. Next to her, Fred and George played an extensive game of hangman. Across the aisle, Lee sat in her usual seat next to Matilda. Matilda was torn between trying to read the assigned pages and watching Lee draw something on a spare bit of parchment.

This wasn’t working.

It would never work.

Sylvia snapped her book shut and stood, wrenching open her bag. Sylvia felt everyone’s eyes on her as she started shoving her things into her bag.

“What,” Umbridge asked loftily, staring at her with bulging eyes, “Are you doing?”

“Leaving.” Sylvia said flatly.

“But class isn’t over yet. The bell hasn’t rung.”

“I know. I’m not taking your class anymore.”

The twins were staring with dropped jaws. Matilda looked like she was about to have a seizure. Sylvia didn’t care. She wouldn’t learn here.

Umbridge gave her signature girlish giggle. “Miss Vance, sit down.”

“No.”

“You will be putting your career, I believe you wish to study wandlore, in jeopardy.”

“Fine.”

“Miss Vance, if you refuse to come to my class, Gryffindoor will lose ten house points every day you don’t come.”

“Every day that you refuse to properly teach this class, I won’t be here. Unless you can prove to me, right here and now, that your magical ability surpasses that of a giant toad and you have to right to instruct me, I won’t be here.”

Umbridge looked like she was swelling. “Detention, Miss Vance.”

Sylvia snorted and finished zipping her bag, then slung it over her shoulder. “You can’t keep me in class, you really think you can make me come to detention?”

She walked out and the whole class sat in a stunned silence. Umbridge looked like she would either scream or explode.

The bell rang twenty minutes later and Matilda sprinted out to find her sister. The class was buzzing about what Sylvia had done as they walked out. Within an hour the whole school would probably know.

Matilda finally spotted her twin walking out of the library. “Syl!”

Sylvia looked up from rummaging in her bag. “Oh, hey, Matty.”

“Are you mad?” she demanded. “Walking out like that? Mum’s going to kill you. I’m going to kill you!”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Calm down. I just checked the rules. I can still take the NEWTs, they just recommend taking the class - “

“You can put my career in jeopardy too!”

Sylvia had half a mind to smack her sister. Instead she grabbed her by the robes and pulled her close. “There’s more important things, you prat.” Sylvia hissed. “Our mother joined The Order of the Pheonix - “

“Shut up - “

“- to ensure we have a future! but as long as that evil woman is here and making sure we’re clueless and forcing kids to carve into their own skin, there won’t be a future!”

“Don’t remind me what Mum’s doing.” Matilda hissed, her eyes welling with tears.

“Then maybe you should understand that some things are worth the risk.”

Sylvia released her sister and walked away, her shoulders squared against the whispers already spreading about what she had done in class.

~*~

“Are you sure?” Molly dithered on January third. “You’re still so thin, and we really don’t mind having you here.”

Sylvia smiled. “Thank you so much for everything, Molly. But it’s really time that I get out of your hair.”

“Sylvia - “

“Really. I should go back and see what’s left of my life.”

Molly hugged her tightly.

Christmas day had ended quietly. After Sylvia had pulled herself out of her head and dried her tears in the bathroom, she returned to the kitchen to find the rest of the family up. She quietly sat across from George and avoided his gaze. She went ice skating with Ginny on a small frozen pond, watching the brothers engage in an intense snowball fight, and listened to an aging Celestina sing her annual Christmas broadcast. It passed as quickly and quietly as it had crept up on her.

Molly released her and held out the pot of floo powder. Sylvia adjusted the bag on her shoulder and threw the floo powder in. “Diagon Alley!”

With one last smile at Molly, Sylvia stepped into the green flames and the Burrow spun away from her.

“Miss Vance!”

Sylvia reached out and grabbed the mantle as she stepped out the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, the scar tissue in her lungs constricting her.

“Please! Sit, sit!”

“No, no, I’m okay.” Sylvia said, her eyes shut. She fought down a deep breath and opened her eyes. “Oh, hello Tom.”

Tom the barman gave her a toothless smile. “We heard you were returning to us. Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” Sylvia smiled. She saw a young man at Tom’s elbow with a chair. “Ah - “

“Oh, my nephew Brian. He’ll take over when I retire. Put that away, boy. Can I get you a drink? Maybe you should rest a bit.”

“Oh, no. I...I may come back later for one.”

“Of course.”

He bowed, hand extended to the back door. Sylvia went out to the back alley and drew her wand. She hummed a Christmas carol under her breath as she tapped the correct brick, then went through the opening archway.

Diagon Alley was a burst of color, even in the dead of winter. People bustled from shop to shop, finding warmth. Lights had been strung for the holidays, but now a few witches and wizards in Ministry of Magic Maintenance robes were taking them down.

Sylvia walked down the street, looking around. A few shops were still boarded up. A new wand shop had opened in place of Olivander’s. They advertised a program for young witches and wizards without money to pay for their wands after they had finished schooling.One of the smaller Apothacaries had become a grocer. When Sylvia reached her own building, she frowned at the shop next to the florist. It had become a tea room.

Sylvia put her hand on the doorknob and turned. The door recognized her touch and swung inwards, showing a clean but dimly lit staircase. Puzzled, Sylvia started up the stairs. She had expected the stairway to be disgusting with dust.

On the landing of the first level, Sylvia put her hand on the door. Again, it recognised her and opened. This was more what she expected. The flat was covered in a thick layer of dust. And it was a wreck. Sylvia walked further in, leaving her footsteps in the dust on the floor. Books were thrown on the floor, drawers left open in haste. It was hard to tell if Matilda had left it like this, or if someone had searched the place during the war.

Maybe it was both.

Sylvia waved her wand and all the lights in the flat were lit. This brought her gaze to a folded piece of parchment sitting on the kitchen table, bearing her name. Sylvia dropped her bag on the floor and picked up the letter.

Dear Syl,
I’m leaving to take Ollivander into hiding tonight. He’s been getting more and more paranoid, and quite frankly I’m not very good at being you. George came into the shop the other day and I hid until he was gone - you warned me that he would know right away. I still don’t understand why you didn’t just tell him what we’re doing.

I’m writing this in case you get back here before I do. I’m sorry about the mess I’m leaving the flat in, there’s just no time. I’ve let out the upstairs flat to a witch named Evelyn Finch. She’s here from Canada to help with the war effort. I’m not sure exactly what she does but she’s going to keep an eye on the place for us.

When we’re both back we can talk about what to do with Mum’s shop. After you left I started trying to clean up but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I don’t know when I’ll see you but hopefully it will be soon.

Lots of love,
Matty

PS - Really, tell George. He’s heartbroken.

Sylvia frowned and refolded the letter. Then she opened it again and simply stared at her sister’s handwriting.

She had cried all night when her sister died. Matilda wasn’t supposed to die. Sylvia had suggested that they switch places so that she wouldn’t…

Sylvia shook herself. There was no use in thinking like that.

Sylvia folded the letter again and waved her wand in a large sweeping arc. Books flew back onto the shelves. Items were swept off counters and table tops and back into draws. The curtains were shot open and the windows flew up, and all the dust was funnelled out onto the street.

Evelyn Finch. Sylvia wondered if this woman was still around. She doubted it, if she were a Canadian national, she probably went home. But that staircase was so clean…

Sylvia picked her back back up and went down the hall, past the bathroom. To her left was her mother’s room, with the full size bed and antique dresser. Sylvia had already cleaned all of it out, donated away the clothes.

To her right was the bedroom she had shared with her sister. There was her bed, with the red and gold covers, and the picture of herself and Alicia Spinnet waving up at her. And on the other side was Matilda’s green and silver bed, the pictures of her friends. Her Head Girl badge still rested on the night stand.

Unable to face that just yet, Sylvia went into her mother’s bedroom and unpacked her bag into the dresser.

The bell rang and Sylvia frowned, yet again, as she went to go answer it. She had been back for ten minutes and already people were calling.

Sylvia swung the door open to find a very pretty brunette witch with large aquamarine eyes. Those eyes shimmered with excitement and mischief. Not unlike that way George’s used to. She wore a thick dark red cloak and knee high brown leather boots, like she was about to go on an adventure.

“Hi, you must be Matilda!”

She spoke in sharp i’s and a’s, and rounded o’s. This, Sylvia decided, must be Evelyn.

“Erm, no, I’m Sylvia.” Sylvia said. “When you met Sylvia she was actually Matilda...it’s a long story. But I’m Sylvia.”

The witch grinned. “Hi. I’m Evelyn. Your sister rented the apartment upstairs out to me.”

“Right.” Sylvia said, trying to grasp her vocabulary.

“I also own the tea shop next door. I was out getting some flowers for tea service later and I saw the curtains open. I figured someone had come home.”

“Yeah.”

Evelyn smiled. “Well, I’m around if you need me. Oh, on Saturday I have a monthly party I hold. Just some of us sitting around and playing cards. You should come by.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I’ll think about it.”

“Well, I should get back, but really, anything you need!”

“Thanks.” Sylvia said vaguely, watching her walk back down the stairs. Evelyn turned and waved as she got to the door to the street.

That girl, Sylvia decided as she shut the door to her flat, is a whirlwind.