Phases (editing)

thirty six

AN- Songs: should have known better by sufjan stevens, you get me so high by the neighbourhood

14th June 1996

Waxing Crescent

Aspen Pov

The safehouse wasn't what I'd expected it to be.

It was a warm and inviting cottage, secluded amongst scattered trees, winding grass fields, and wildflowers. The warm air flew around in brief pockets and the sun's rays touched down through cracks in the clouds. Andromeda had sent the others away for various errands; she wanted to give me space to adjust since she'd known of my previous situation. I appreciated the gesture but hoped that the others had no ill feelings towards the imposition.

There were windows everywhere, which allowed light to bounce between the eggshell walls and rustic wood beams. A part of me wished I grew up in a house like this one, it forced conversation and company. The house I grew up in had too much space, and when you saw someone it was with forced intent.

It was two floors and even though it was an open concept, it didn't prevent little treasures around the home. Pots and pans hung above the island, which was a faint shade of blue with a wood counter that matched the beams. Even though we were secluded in the countryside, the sounds of birds snuck in through the cracked windows.

"As I'd told you when you arrived," Andromeda over her shoulder as she spun a wooden spoon in a pot of stew, "there are a couple of others staying here your age. They are boys, so I hope you've already been given the talk..."

I choked on the water glass I'd just brought to my lips, and attempted to clear my airways, "Nope," I rushed out, "and I don't intend on romantics, so you have no need to worry in that area."

She nodded and the stark white strand that framed her face bounced. Andromeda appeared younger than my mother, yet she was a bit older. The only thing to show for her age was her hair, about two-thirds grey at this point, but the strands framing her face were completely white.

"Good," she simply said, "well, nonetheless, we are outnumbered here since you and I are the only women."

"Fantastic," I say sarcastically.

"My children run between the other houses often," she explains before bringing the flame under the pot to low, then turning completely to face me, "Corvus, my son, you're more likely to see. Nymphadora, my daughter, is running the house in Glasgow. Her priority is the lot there, but that hasn't stopped her from popping into the others from time to time."

"How come this is the first I've heard of your son?" I asked with raised brows. It was difficult to hide my surprise at the mention of one.

Andromeda leaned back into the counter with crossed arms, "Yes, well, it's been more for his safety," she begins to say. "You see, Corvus may be of my Black bloodline, but he is not my biological son."

My face twisted at the insinuation. Confused and full of curiosity that would be rather rude to progress on.

She puts a hand up and nods, "I understand that may be confusing, but the story of how he became my son, is one I don't enjoy reliving. I love him dearly, and find gratitude in my days for the gift he has become, but the years before were dark for him."

"How old was he when you took him in?" I felt brave enough to ask.

She extracted her wand from the pocket of her long sweater and flicked it in the air, summoning a picture frame. She simply plucked it from the air and walked it over to me, presenting a photo of her two kids. They sat on the steps of a house that wasn't this one. Her daughter, with a wide smile, wrapped her arms around the boy. The boy looked blankly as he sat stiffly, allowing his new sister to embrace him.