𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 {𝙘𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜/𝙤𝙘} ⚢

xiii.

“we’ve started the fire already,” lian declared with a frown plastered to her visage as she focused on the blond man standing in front of her. part of me, i had to admit, was surprised lian hadn’t fallen for dante instead of arwen. she wasn’t shallow, but lian was known for liking pretty things (and dante definitely fell into that category!). “i know you wanted to help, but you were a bit too late for that.”

“no worries.” dante’s accent was thick, and i instantly wondered if his sister’s would be as decadent in its nature. she had to be his sister, right? i worried, maybe muggle sigmund freud was right once more, in that, the oedipus complex theory was real. that people, no matter how strange it was, were attracted to those who ressembled their parents or themselves (now that was shallow!). “you know gal—” i hated the nickame the second dante uttered it. her name was beautiful, why slice it into something less than? “she had to bring everyone a gift.”

i was on the edge of my seat, even if there was none below me. what could galilea possibily have brought with her? what could be tucked away in her tote bag that laid quietly on her left, exposed shoulder blade? and what kind of witch bared gifts to absolute strangers?

i knew it was her first time meeting steven and i, even if she’d met yan (and evidently lian!) prior.

“really?”

i stopped listening to dante and lian’s conversation the moment galilea inched forward. the closer she got, the more jealously propagated in my stomach. i couldn't halt it; the leafling was soon a tree. she was beautiful.

she was exactly the kind of woman bao would fall for; the one he’d never cease to mention to me. and the worst part was, who could blame him?

i watched as she greeted everyone, a smile radiating across her alabaster, v-shaped face. she was radiant. i smiled from afar and said my name timidly.

“cho,” i whispered.

“galilea.” her own name fell from her lips like sweet honey. “lian said you’re from hogwarts?”

“yes,” i said.

“my mothers went there.” mothers? i tried to remain neutral. i wasn’t the judgemental type, just curious. i’d heard of it before. i knew it was possible for two witches or wizards to conceive a child, but it was very much looked down upon. i’d never even had a classmate, let alone a friend, tell me they had two same sex-parents.

but, just maybe, i was jumping to conclusions. there could be other perfectly sane explanations.

“marlene mckinnon and dorcas meadowes,” galilea smiled. the names sounded familiar, but i wasn’t too sure why. “you might have heard of them. they were in gryffindor and in the order of the phoneix with the marauders.”

“yes,” i replied, remembering.

“gal--” there it was again, that name, except this time it was lian calling her that. “cho was in the army!” i turned and gave lian a sharp glare. she loved to interfere with anything she could.

“dumbledore’s?” arwen had had the same empathy and gratitude in his voice earlier, but it had made sense, then. his brother had been a part of it. why did galilea have the same reaction? i nodded.

“i’m surprised that even the most remote corners of the world have heard of dumbledore’s army.” the chinese had, too. lian had told me they’d discussed it at the academy, at some point or another.

“i’m just from italy (as if the latin-derived accent wasn’t telling enough!). it isn’t that far, nothing like here.” galilea smiled, but it wasn’t in the condescending way lian would have done it had she been the one to reply instead. i’d seen this kind of kindness before; one that came without expectance of anything in return. it felt foreign yet familiar.

i couldn’t pinpoint it (not yet, anyway!).

i felt a tap on my shoulder. it was arwen. he was coming to rip me out of my conversation with galilea. i sighed internally, a bit confused on why.

“walk with me?”

“of course,” i agreed, suddenly curious.

we bimbled across the shores, the stars flickering overhead. we were both quiet for a very long time, and just before i almost broke the silence, arwen spoke up.

“i like lian,” he admitted. i couldn’t contain the smile that painted my lips.

“that’s great!” i was so happy for her.

“it isn’t.”

“why?”

“it just isn’t.” i studied arwen as his eyes lingered on the waves of the bay.

“is this about anthony?” i asked. ”your brother?” i expected his head to snatch in my direction. i exptected anger and wrath, but maybe that was just because of bao.

arwen didn’t do any of that. he simply continued to look out at the crashing, seafoam ripples. his face barely distinguishable of emotion, but i could see it so well. i knew repression when i saw it, and i could feel it swell like a balloon inside of him.

grief was a fucking fickle thing.

“maybe,” arwen murmured. not all maybes meant yes, to be fair, most meant no. this wasn’t one of them.

“it’s okay to let go without letting go.” i knew the sentence didn’t make sense to most, but i hoped it would to him. his eyes rimmed with tears, and i pushed mine back as far as they’d go and grabbed a rock from underfoot. “after my mum, i wasn’t sure i’d be able to, but i did.”

i flung the rock across the briny, watching as it skipped in three symbolic jumps. much like us, the water had memory.

“you can, too,” i assured, “be happy.”

“thank you,” arwen said. “so, do you think i’ve got luck with her?”

“i do,” i smirked. i do.