Mischief Managed

15: A Symphony of the Hearts

Is the violin not the most beautiful instrument in the world?

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How- how is it possible for something to go terribly wrong when it was perfect only a moment before?

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Another week, and it was the night of my concert. The whole day, I suffered various degrees of panic. Sirius constantly offered me reassurances- "You'll do fine"; "I've heard you play it perfectly dozens of times"; "You've been preparing for months."

Each of his reassurances was met with an equally sure rebuttal- "You can't know that"; "That doesn't mean I'll play it perfect tonight"; "Exactly, I can't let myself- everyone- down."

Finally, he gave up with words and just hugged me.

"I believe in you," he whispered, his voice full of gentleness as it tickled my ear.

I leaned into him. My palms had been sweaty for hours. My stomach had been upset for days.

I shook my head, swamped again by fear. I saw myself, an hour from now, shaking on stage with the eyes of hundreds of people trained solely on me. I shivered. "Don't say that."

"Bree..." he said, pulling me closer to him. I wished I could have stayed with him forever; I had been torturing myself all day with images of my own failure, and I just wanted it to stop. And, with Sirius, those visions were silent, if only for a moment.

"Bree! You ready to go?" my dad called from the garage.

I whimpered and snuggled further into Sirius's arms.

He moved backwards, leaving about a foot between our faces.

"Bree, listen. You're still going to be the most talented violinist I know, no matter what happens tonight."

"I'm just...so...scared." Even my voice was shaking. I tried to summon the strength to steady it.

"You have no reason to be," Sirius pressed, his eyes boring into mine as if he were trying to transfer his confidence in me through the air. "You're spectacular- I've watched you practice two hours every day for more than a month, and I still haven't figured out how you do it. Show everyone else how good you are, because you should be proud of it."

I broke into a slight smile. "T-That was a pretty great pep talk," I said. "Thanks, Padfoot."

He returned the smile, all of his features softening. "That's what I'm here for." Suddenly, he pulled me closer to him and pressed his lips to my forehead.

I lingered against him for a moment, then leaned away.

"I've got to go now," I breathed. My insides deteriorated into an even more liquified state of mush. I was secretly glad Sirius wasn't able to buy a ticket to for concert. I was certain I would my mind would freeze if I saw him onstage.

"Good luck,"" he said, grinning. "Show them, alright?"

--

It was time for me to step out. I was playing the solo violin part for a concerto with a full orchestra, and, while the orchestra had been tuning, I was huddled off to the side, my nerves eating up any thoughts of small talk.

I didn't even hear the announcement of my piece, only felt the gentle push from one of the lighting crew.

Walking towards center stage, I felt the glares of the hundreds of people from the audience. Their eyes, unfamiliar and assessing, burned through me like matches on paper.