9 Feb 2026, 08:14
If I Die Young
Somebody’s baby was buried to-day—
The empty white hearse from the grave rumbled back,
And the morning somehow seemed less smiling and gay
As I paused on the walk while it crossed on its way,
And a shadow seemed drawn o’er the sun’s golden track.
09/02/26 @ Zephyr Deakin
Death was inevitable. Anyone would tell you that. Maisie was 12, and at her age, most could accept the matters of life or death, so does she. For the past eleven years, she'd only worn black three times. Once to her uncle's funeral, once to a family friend's, and once to her meemaw's. Never in her life would she believe she'd have to drag out that dark dress for her sister.
The Scottish winter day was bleak. The sky was colorless without a cloud in sight and the wind whipping cruelly at passer-by's despite heavy coats and scarves. Most students were safely tucked away in the library or common rooms near fire and friends and using the better part of their day away from the cold. The occasional students were scattered across the grounds, eager to finish their errands and hurry back to the rosy fires. Maisie would be a part of them, but she found herself heading to the owlery despite the cold. It was a normal day, and when the family owl hadn't arrived at breakfast carrying her weekly news from home, she decided to check the owlery later. Even owls got tired. Besides, it wasn't the first time Peregrine, the family owl that delivered her letters had been late. It was either breakfast time or mid-afternoon. But when she was cornered by Michael, her older brother in Hufflepuff and Matthew, her Ravenclaw brother at the foot of the marble staircase, she sensed something was wrong. They hadn't their letters, either. It was usually Mama that wrote all their letters and anyone back home could add, and the owls would make a detour to her eldest brother before arriving at school. Since Martin showed a significant less amount of interest to his brothers, which they did equally, they don't expect, nor get many letters from him, this their letters were more often or not on time. After a heated conversation with her brothers for no reason, the three agreed the letters were probably being sent together, as the other owls might be preoccupied, or her parents finally realized it was better to send all letters by one owl. Compelled by her determination that that was the case, Maisie said she'd go check mid-afternoon.
True to her word, she bundled herself up and made the journey up the west tower to the owlery, There were one of two other students in the space, but since Maisie didn't know them, they were of no bother. The room smelled mildly of owl dropping and fresh grass but Maisie didn't mind the smell much. Even though she put on her thickest sweater and trousers, she could still feel the biting cold. Her eyes travelled around the circular room in search for the familiar tawny owl. Giving up all hope, she turned and was about to go back to the common room when an owl pecked her, dropped a heavy stack of envelops and found a spot to rest. Bemused, Maisie picked up the owl with her name in black ink. Her brother's handwriting. She smiled. She loved Martin much more than any of her siblings, and his letters were amazing. It was true, too, that her brothers' letters were delivered alongside hers.
She slid her forefinger into the crease between the envelope and opened it quite easily. Unfolding the paper, Maisie began to read.A small sigh escaped Maisie before she could stop it. She didn't understand why she felt relief. Relief that her sister was dead? That there will be one less in her family? She should be agonized. She should be in unbearable pain. Not relief. Why would she feel relief? She berated herself. She was taking the news alright. No crying or bawling or whatever like the books described. Was this what grief was? Silent and wordless, with relief tucked between? Her parents had been besides themselves when Meemaw died, they couldn't even take care of their own children. They'd been sent to Wales to like with her mam-gu. And at the funerals she'd attended, there were more often than not handkerchiefs over almost everyone's faces. She'd cried at those funerals, too. But now, she wondered if it was just following the general mood, and if she's really been sad. If she can't even react to her sister's death, how was she to react to other people's deaths? Her sister, her youngest sister. The last child her parents would have. The youngest child. The golden child. The sick child. Martin was right, she was in no more pain. No more wheelchair or visits to St. Mungo's. No more medicine and charms and spells and nasty potions. She was free and safe from the illnesses that had riddled her since birth.My dearest sister Maisie,
I hope this finds you and those two well. It...hasn't been easy these past days. I know before you departed, everything back home was almost normal. This hasn't been an easy Christmas and New Year's to be honest, what with Millie and all. That is the reason of this ...
Maisie, I know Mother's letter will be softer, and she'll try to cushion it as much as possible. But I don't think I can do that, Mais, I don't think I can. I just can't bring myself to do it. Millie is dead, Maisie. She died early yesterday morning. She was getting better, actually. She was doing really great. The healers say it's not Dragonpox. Remember when she was born and they said she had a weak heart? It was that. It gave up on her, even when they said she was gonna survive. She was. But she's in a better place now. She won't be in any more pain. I took leave, and I'm back home now to help out. We understand if you want to come back. You could. But you'll have to be back for the funeral in a fortnight. Mother's not doing well. I'm worried to be frank. She just cradled Millie's body for two hours, until Father pulled her off. Maddy's doing quite well. I'm surprised. We didn't tell her the news until she came back from school that day. It would be a pain to have that over your head the whole day. Father's not bad, either. He's just making arrangements for.. you know. Don't forget to tell Michael and Matthew the news. There's only one letter from Mother to you three because she couldn't bring herself to write them. I hope they won't take it too badly, either. I know I don't always have time for them, as you know, they aren't the most mature. You, however, my favorite sister, are. I disclosed a letter to them, which you could give. Or vise versa, depending on who gets this first.
Ever your loving brother,
PS. I bet you...three four of my chocolate frog cards that this arrives late.
Maisie remembered being six and taken to see Millie in her mother's arms. She was such a small little thing. Maisie had said she looked like a toad. And her parents had laughed. She hoped she wouldn't think this the day of the funeral. Her sister was never well—always wailing and crying all night. Maisie knew: they had shared a nursery then. That was when she hadn't her own room yet. Bad heart...weak immune system... She'd heard muffled conversations outside the room between her parents and their physician. Maisie remembered the day the oak wheelchair had been brought to the house all brushed down with polish and looking grand. Her sister was ever so small in it. And she pictured now how small and helpless Millie was now, lying motionless, her heart unable to beat another time.
A person moved, and her eyes flickered back to the envelopes clutched in her hand. She tucked her brother's letter back into the thick ministry issued paper. Her fingers brushed past another thick wad of paper, allegedly for her brothers. She'd have to break the news to them, she realized with a pang. Maisie wondered how they'd react. With tears or with laughter? Or maybe they'd not react at all, like her. Strangely, she felt calm but also as if she'd aged twenty years. The last few months were like treading on eggshells: she was afraid every letter she opened, every message from home would bear the news of her sister's death. But they didn't. Until today. After Christmas, after seeing her sister, after she believed everything would be okay, her sister died. She died. A big salty tear dropped onto the page, wetting it and making her eye go blurry. Then another, from the other eye, and another. She ground the palm of her hand onto her eyes, trying in vain to stop the tears. Not now and not here. She wasn't going to cry in front of the sparse people in the room even if they weren't paying her attention.
The room was even colder now with gales of wind sweeping in. Maybe it wasn't really that cold. Maybe it was just her imagination. Her instinct was to go back into the warmth and her friends, but she couldn't move. Her legs wouldn't move; when they finally did, they took her next to the stone wall and she slid down, bringing her knees to her chest. Maisie distinctly wondered the use of sitting here or of doing anything now her sister was dead. Dead. She'd never see her smile or her random remarks that made no sense. There would be no eight people family photos, only seven. Six children in her family, it's always been that. Three boys and three girls. Now it was just five. Eight is even and seven is odd; six is even and five is odd. Odd was death, that reaffirms everything. Odd that it takes one person's death to remind you life is only so fragile, and death was unavoidable. Maisie shook her head violently as if to refocus her mind. She'd have to read her mother's letter, maybe even her father's, if he wrote. She wondered how her sister was doing—the one alive. She wouldn't be there to comfort her, or her mother or father. The room was silent now, evidently everyone had left the room with their letters from home. Happy letters, she thought. That was what she had not. Her hands shaking, she put her brother's letter on the icy stone floor and opened the one with her name addressed in her mother's handwriting.Maisie rubbed her forehead. Her mother's tone was as usual but she could feel her breaking down. Some words were smudged and she could see the faint splotches of ink. She must be, it was her daughter that just died. Maisie pinched herself in one wild hope it was all a dream and she'd wake up in bed and maybe laugh about it with her friends over pumpkin juice at the breakfast table, safe and warm, and knowing her family was safe and warm. That everything and everyone was alright.Matthew, Michael and Maisie,
I don't know which of you will get the letter first since all of them are here. Neither do I know how to tell you some bad news. Millie died early yesterday morning. We understand if you want to come home to grieve, and we'll arrange for it if you feel the need. It's fine. I'm fine, don't worry, and your father and Maddy are both fine. Martin's home, and I believe he has letters for you all. The funeral is in two weeks, which you have to come back for. Michael, if you believe this is some time to pull another of your tricks, IT'S NOT. I also don't care if your team is set to win this season, or if you want to spend time with friends—you three are all coming back with no complaints. I know it'll be hard for you all. It's been hard for you since the beginning of her diagnosis but it's going to be alright and things will go back to normal. Your sister is happy now and she's not in pain any longer. Try not to dwell on this The coming days, alright?
Dad here-
What your mother said is correct, even if it's a bit harsh. We'll pick you immediately if you can't wait the two weeks. Don't go around doing risky things because of your sorrow, alright?
Love, Mum and Dad
Millicent, the youngest child, the last child, the adorable child, the child with all her parents attention. The crying child, the sickly child, the annoying child and yet the laughing child, the happy child, the child that lit up every room with her jokes. Maisie spent only two years in her presence, the baby having stayed with Mama while the others sent to Wales. But in those two years, Maisie sometimes wishes she never existed loved Millie. That little girl took her parents attention from her. Deep down, however, she loved her sister. Yet if she had the prescience that her life would end at 5, she would have said every day how much she loved Millie. How much she loved her smile, her laugh. It was all too late now, however. More tears were falling down and soon the girl was racking with sobs. If she had the chance to go back, "I love you" will be the first thing she said to her sister. Time is never enough, we think we have forever, forever to say those three words but in truth, we don't, and those moments with family and friends are precious.
She made to get up, remembering her brothers were probably waiting for her. Or not, they could be hunting secret passages or having snow fights. For the first time, she did not know what to say to them. How could she be the news bearer of such news?
wc: 2325
Last edited by Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams on 9 May 2026, 12:34, edited 1 time in total.
20 Feb 2026, 13:53
If I Die Young
Reducio Word Count: 691 |
Reducio Mention: @Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams |
Zephyr woke up early that morning as usual. He promised himself that he would train every morning, as long as his schedule permits him, to be a better flyer. He learned quickly that showing up half awake on a broom was not a good idea. He dressed quickly and headed down to the grounds and while on his way, he enjoyed the fresh morning air. It was still a bit dark and only a portion of light could be seen from the horizon. Not even reaching the pitch yet, he already mounted his broom in excitement to fly. Flying had become one of the few things that helped clear his head completely. Once his feet left the ground, everything else faded. It’s just him and air and the view from above.
He added more challenges in his training that morning. He practiced sharp turns, controlled dives, and different tactics. The more he trained daily, the more his movements were confident now compared to the beginning of term. Back then, he would open grip his broom too tightly and overthink every motion and reaction. He was also shaking in nervousness, afraid that he would fall. Now, he trusted his balance more. Mistakes would still happen but what’s important was recovering from them.
When he finished his training, his arms felt sore already, there was a dull ache in his shoulders, but it was the satisfying kind knowing it came from his effort. He brushed snow off his sleeves and looked around him. The ground was pristine and as more light covered the area, the ground glittered like jewels. Hogwarts still amazed him sometimes. Months ago, flying over these grounds was unreal for him but now it’s normal. He headed back inside, and after a quick wash and a late breakfast, he returned to the common room and prepared a letter to his parents.
Writing to them had become a habit he was trying to keep regularly. He liked telling them all about his school activities including training sessions, classes, funny incidents in the corridors. It made the distance feel bearable. He shared about his classes, what subjects he was enjoying more lately, which ones were still challenging. He told them he was managing well and keeping up with his assignments. There was also the part where he reassured them he was eating properly and sleeping enough, though not entirely true all the time. Lastly, he wrote that he was settling in well and made good friends, now he had people he trusted. Once done, he folded the letter and sealed it carefully. He slipped the letter into his jacket pocket and do a bit of his homework. He would go to the owlery this afternoon to send the letter.
In the afternoon, Zephyr left his dorm to go to the owlery. He climbed the stairs at a normal pace, and with each step, he was reminded of the earlier soreness in his shoulders due to his morning’s training. When he reached the top of the stairs, he was greeted with a rush of cold air followed by sharp scent of frost mixed with owl droppings and hay. Dozens of owls perched along the stone walls. He stepped further inside and scanned among the tawny and barn owls. His own family didn’t have a personal owl so he usually borrowed one from the school. But as he took another step, he finally realized he wasn’t alone. Was that a sniff? Is someone crying? And it was not just any person…
At first, he didn’t recognize her until she was in the process of standing and saw her tear-stained face. “Maisie?!” He called her name in confusion and worry. Though they see each other daily, in their common room or in classes, what stuck with him was her laughing on the ice, teasing him, and moving with confidence. Now one long look on her face and he knew she’s been crying. He hesitated for a second, worried about intruding. What if she wanted to be alone? What if he would just make it worse? He approached her slowly and cautiously. “Hey, did something happen?”
Calming Presence | The Muggle Condition
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
8 Mar 2026, 04:40
If I Die Young
location: owlery date: 09/02/2026
The last thing the twelve year old girl would have expected was to be walked in on. Yes, it was a public space, and yes, people were going to post letters because it was an ordinary day. But really, she had completely forgotten about the possibilities of being intruded on this private moment. In all her grief and shock, it had slipped from her mind. By instinct, her head shot up at the sound of her name, and met the gaze of a slightly confused looking Zephyr Deakin, fellow classmates and housemate, and friend. She recalled their encounter at the frozen lake, where they had a winter afternoon all to themselves, skating and having fun. Her lips twitched in the faintest amusement. But her smile didn't last long, as the realization that she was caught in a vulnerable position with tears glistening on her face and eyes red. It was obvious she was crying, and there was no way for her to say otherwise.
She bent down and picked up the letters, arranging them with an offhand expression, as if it was the most ordinary thing, to be crying in a room filled with owls. "Hi." She said, voice slightly cracked, eyes still on the parchment between her hands. "I'm fine,' She looked up, and gave him a quick smile. 'Nothing much happened... I mean, it's just my sister...died." It was the first time she said that out loud, and she wiped the tears coming down once again. "Yesterday morning, she died." The winter wind was icy on her face, and she wondered childishly if her face would freeze. "And I don't know if I should go back home or stay in school and how I tell my brothers our youngest sister died and that we have to go back for the funeral." The words left her mouth in a stream, as she babbled on. "She was always sick, my sister. Very sick since the day she was born. We all knew her life wasn't going to be long but this? She's five."
Maisie would have rather her sister died from Dragonpox, as such the news a letter in October bore, than of a heart issue. Dragonpox was mostly fatal, but that was a deadly illness itself. Nothing could change that fact. Yet a weak heart? They had all known it, yet in all the diseases and complications Millie had contracted the past five years, it was like a single drop of water in the ocean. Maisie had not given her "weak heart" a second thought after the healers told her parents, and neither did they, she supposed. She had survived all those awful illnesses, yet she succumbed from her heart. A small thing, Maisie would give you that. And all those times she'd taken life for granted, all those times she jumped down windows onto the icy ground, or the times she climbed a tree so high just for fun, all those times she didn't put life into consideration. And one was gone right now. Her sister had never climbed a tree, or skated, hell, even running she never had a chance. "She'd never truly even lived. Never. She was always in a wheelchair or on a bed or sofa draped in blankets with Mother or a nurse by her side." Maisie's voice came out rough, and her robe was disheveled, but she did not care. She didn't even care that she was crying in front of someone. Something she would have died of embarrassment otherwise. For one of the first times, she let someone into a world she didn't know she could share.
12 Mar 2026, 04:29
If I Die Young
Reducio Word Count: 668 |
Reducio Mention: @Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams |
"Your sister...died?” Zephyr had difficulty saying the words out loud. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Maisie.." He felt bad for her, no matter how much she tried to hide her pain, it was very noticeable. The tears on her cheeks, her red eyes, and trembling hands, she was definitely not fine. No one is fine when someone they love dies. Losing someone close to you, especially if it's a family member, is a lot to handle, it's more than just nothing. Zephyr stepped closer to her and crouched low so he was at her level just as she wiped her cheeks quickly, as if showing him that she was keeping it together. But he could tell it's too much for her. He felt bad that she had to deal with this alone. Pulling his handkerchief, which he always brings with him, from his pocket, he offered it to her with a faint smile. "I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you, but it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to feel upset. You don’t have to act as if nothing happened.”
She shared that she didn't know whether to go home or stay, and how to tell her brothers about the news. She must have known it just a few minutes ago when she went to the owlery. Now she would be the bearer of the bad news, and even he didn't know he would have managed that if that were him. He wanted to give her some guidance, something to make her feel a bit better. "Why don't you tell your brothers first, see what they think. You don’t have to decide by yourself. See what most of you agree on, then you can go from there.” He noticed her hands still shaking as they held the letters. "Your brothers are your family, and they would feel the same. You can talk to them first and then decide together what to do.” Maisie sniffled and looked down at the letters again, as if trying to sort through her thoughts, and all he could do was stay and let her have a little space. She's probably a bit overwhelmed right now and foggy from grief. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t know what to say, so he told her the first thing that came to mind. "I’m here for you if you want to talk. Do you want to tell me more about her?" It's better to express one's grief than to bottle it up, as it would only make the pain harder to deal with and more confusing.
Her voice trembled as she spoke, and he encouraged her by nodding, letting her know he was listening to her story about her sister. He could sense the pain in her voice, but he could not do anything to take that weight off her. He knew he couldn’t, and knowing the sister who died was just five, the corner of his eyes warmed, and he almost got teary-eyed. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a sister, having one himself, someone so small and young. Maisie shared her thoughts that her sister never truly lived, never had a chance to do anything. Life can be unfair. Anyone would cry if this happened to them. What could he say that might actually help? Instead, he reached out and touched her hand, and squeezed it gently. “It’s hard to understand why something like this happens, maybe there's an important reason why. I'd like to think she's in a better place." It was awkward, unsure if he was saying the right things, but he couldn’t just leave her crying like this. He would not pretend that he knows what he's doing; he was at a loss as to how to give hope to Maisie, who had just lost someone she loved. Her situation is different, and so was her pain. Emotional pain is on a spectrum, not necessarily of mere intensity but also of variation.
Calming Presence | The Muggle Condition
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
22 Mar 2026, 08:00
If I Die Young
location: owlery date: 09/02/2026
"No matter. It's past. I'll be fine." The girl said when Zephyr said he was sorry her sister died. It was something of the past, her sister's passing. Nothing would bring her back, and there was no use to cry. It won't change a thing, yet Maisie still wanted to believe it was a joke, or that she was a character in a book, and this was just the 'rock' in her transition from childhood to teenage years and at the end of the story, she would have it all and be alright. Fine. She would be fine. Everything would be fine. But life was no fairy tale, and it was a fact she only had one sister now. That made her cry again, and she could feel her eyes go hot as tears began to fall again. Zephyr was now eye-level with her, and Maisie returned his smile and accepted his handkerchief. She was mildly surprised when he spoke next. When her uncle died, her mother had held her and wiped her tears, but also told her to stop crying—it would ruin her dress. It was drilled into the girl not to show any case of vulnerability in front of other people, especially as she grew older. They did not need to be blackmailed with photos of their daughter ugly crying and threatened to be forwarded to gossip magazines for money. So she was taken aback when Zephyr said it was okay to cry. "Thank you." She whispered. She wrapped an arm around him in a quick hug of gratitude.
She had walked into the owlery not twenty minutes ago as one in size and would go back out as one in five. And she would have to tell her two brothers that, too. It sounded poetic, what with the numbers and the going in and out, but it was not. Just the sad truth of a life lost to illness. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'll find them and three of us will discuss what to do." She knew that they would all head back as soon as time and speed would allow. She did not entirely want to leave Hogwarts, but there was no other choice. She did not want to be riddled with regret for the rest of her life. But she would then have to face her family and deal with funeral preparations, each and every one of them a reminder of what had happened.
She squeezed his hand back softly, grateful of his support and this valuable friendship. They were children, but children were capable of understanding things adults had trouble with. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this."
"And I think—sometimes—or maybe everytime I do something reckless like suddenly skating towards you to show you how to stop on skates,' she laughed hollowly, 'or jumping out of windows because I'm too lazy to go through a normal door and nearly hitting my head, or climbing trees and swinging from a branch that was too thin to bear my weight because I wanted to be cool—all those times I was being stupid and the Grim Reaper was just standing behind me. I had a choice between morality and the fun, the risk, the adrenaline. And my sister didn't want to go. She didn't, but I was off doing things that could've killed me. But I did not die and she did." Maisie laughed without humor and stared out of the open cobblestone window. "Millicent. Millie. That's — That was her name." The girl added abruptly, the thought entering her mind as quick as it left it. She did not need to add that one day, Millicent would just be a worn out name on a marble grave, weathered by time and nature claiming her back. "She'll be in a better place." She murmured, more to herself than to Zephyr.
3 Apr 2026, 07:10
If I Die Young
Reducio Word Count: 496 |
Reducio Mention: @Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams |
Zephyr stayed very still when Maisie hugged him, unsure how to respond to the sudden action but he didn’t pull away. One hand was awkwardly hovering behind her. He didn’t know what to say to her to give her comfort. Saying it’s okay didn’t feel right at all because he knew it’s not really the case so his hand went to gently rest on her back for a brief moment. When she pulled away, he could still see the tears in her eyes, even though she was trying to act fine.
He didn’t believe her words because no one could be fine that fast. She’s the one hurting and going through something yet she’s the one assuring him she’ll be fine. He shook his head but didn’t say anything so as not to sound like he was pushing her and just nodded when she agreed to telling her brothers. It’s better for everyone involved to be informed of what happened and decide from there. For sure her brothers would want to know too. And as a family, they can share their grief.
He cannot imagine how hard that would be for Maisie, walking up to her brothers and saying the words out loud. His stomach twisted just thinking about that. His brows pulled together at her apology. “Hey.. it’s okay, you don’t have to say sorry for something like that. You just lost someone dear to you, you’re allowed to feel this way.” It wouldn’t change anything, and it wouldn’t make her look weak in his eyes either. It’s a common reaction when someone important to you was gone. She talked about the things she used to do, her recklessness and for doing things that were risky, almost like she was laughing at herself, and he just listened to her, sometimes the corner of his mouth would lift in silent amusement.
There was a moment of understanding to what she was trying to tell him. How she lived her life while her sister couldn’t. Guilt. When something bad happened, you start wondering what you could have done differently. “Maisie, this is not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. I know she’s your sister but what happened to her all her life shouldn’t stop you from doing what’s best for you, or shouldn’t dictate you how you wanted to live your life. Doing normal things like most kids our age do, like having fun, that’s what you’re supposed to do. It doesn’t mean you took anything away from her and it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be here either.”
She shared her sister’s name-Millicent. “Millie, that’s a nice name.” He glanced at the window for a moment. “I would like to think the same too and if she could see you right now, she wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.” If he would take a good guess, Millie would probably want Maisie to keep doing those things she talked to him about. The fun, reckless ones.
Calming Presence | The Muggle Condition
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
12 Apr 2026, 13:00
If I Die Young
location: owlery date: 09/02/2026
Edit: typo (:It was reassuring when Zephyr patted Maisie's back, but a small part of her wondered if she should've asked first. Beforehand, she had never thought that having friends was so important. She was a firm believer that having siblings sufficed, but now, she was beginning to think otherwise. But then again, she was much younger, and living on a big estate with only your siblings and perhaps the odd family friends' children or two didn't call for many friends. Yet here Maisie was, with a friend by her side ready to share her pain. Not that she was in the mind to let him; she would rather take it all on herself, for it didn’t feel right to burden someone else with her troubles. Friends, the people that have your back, sometimes literally, but more often, figuratively. Siblings were important, but friends were also important. And the boy sitting by her was a friend she could keep for the rest of her life.
Her mind wandered back to telling her brothers. She pictured herself walking down the corridor to perhaps the small hall, where they said they'd wait for her, smoothing her robe and making sure the remnants of the tears on her face were dry. They'd perhaps ask why she looked like she was crying, or maybe they wouldn't notice, yet still sense something off. Then, she'd lift her hands and they'd take the letters. They'd read, and their expressions would change instantly. Her mission would then be done. Maisie did not know whether they'd cause a scene or just swallow back their tears. The only way was to be in that exact moment, and she did not have the prescience to the future.
You are allowed to feel that way. The sentence reverberated in her ears, mixing with her own thoughts and memories. You are allowed. You are allowed. Maisie didn't like sharing her own feelings with others for all her bubbly self. Under her mother's influence, she had learnt to hold back her feelings. Yet now, they were pooling out in the form of tears. The confusion, the sorrow, the grief, the hurt, everything she had been feeling and everything she hadn't known she'd been feeling about a five year old girl, was coming out like a never-ending spring. She was allowed. She was allowed to have feelings, to feel things, she was allowed to act like a human because that was what she was.
Zephyr had a philosophy she never expected, yet what he said, every word of it was true. She was allowed a life. Just because one ended doesn't mean more should be pulled down for it. In any case, like Zephyr said, Millie would want her siblings and parents to have a full life. Or maybe... Or maybe her sister was envious of them, envious that she never had a life. If she didn't make her life count, then all of that envy or hope or whatever would be gone. She would rather Millie be envious of her life and all that she'd achieve than be ashamed of her. In memory of her sister, Maisie was going to live life to the fullest. Live her life, but also Millie's, and everyone that was no longer walking in the mortal world. "You're right. Why die inside for someone already dead? She would live through me, I'd make sure of that."
Her breathing was slowing down, back into its regular rhythm, and the tears had stopped. "You would make a great philosopher." Maisie said, smiling slightly, the familiarity of her own self creeping in like wisteria on brick walls. "Maybe the sorting hat was wrong—you should've been in Ravenclaw." She said it with a teasing lilt, hoping he wouldn't take it seriously. He was a great Hufflepuff.
Last edited by Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams on 26 Apr 2026, 14:37, edited 1 time in total.
26 Apr 2026, 13:21
If I Die Young
Reducio Word Count: 545 |
Reducio Mention: @Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams |
Reducio OOC Notes: always love our threads, feel free to end it now! If you want a follow up rp, let me know, just send me an owl! :3 |
Zephyr was just watching Maisie as she spoke. It was obvious to him that she was still hurting, that much was obvious, but… he could also tell she didn’t look as lost as she was a few minutes ago. His words must have helped her realized something. Her breathing became calmer and her voice was not shaky anymore. It was relieving in a way. He just nodded at her words, “That’s one way of putting it.” He couldn’t fully know if it was the right way, he was not an expert but if it would help her going instead of pulling herself down then so be it. But at the same time, a thought stayed at the back of his mind. What if it doesn’t feel like that later especially when she’d alone in her room?
He didn’t say anything out loud. Why take that bit of strength away from her. But he also knew feelings don’t stay easy like that. One moment you think you understand it, the next it would hit you again out of nowhere. But then, he would take this as it was better than before. When she smiled, he felt some of worries disappeared. She even called him a philosopher. He looked at her blankly at first, not following her words. “A what?” But before he could overthink, she followed up with the Ravenclaw comment. He finally understood what she meant and that earned an awkward laugh from him. “Ravenclaw? Not a chance.” He shook his head, clearly not in agreement. It’s not like he hates Ravenclaw, he just believed he doesn’t have what it takes to be one. “I don’t have the brain for that, they would kick me out in a day.” He glanced at her so she knew he was only joking but he was also being honest. “I am not good with riddles and puzzles, anything like that will just get me annoyed and will try to skip it. I’d rather do things like flying, training…activities where you move and actually do something.” There’s one more thing, “And… I’m better at listening than figuring things out like they do.” That’s as real as he’s going to be.
Back at her situation, he had not lost someone before, especially a sister. But he understood why she felt the way she did, even if you don’t mean to, you start thinking weird things such as having fun when her sister couldn’t. If it was him, he probably would feel the same. Why did he get to be fine when they couldn’t? His brows pulled together. Then his over-thinker brain would start making it sound like it’s his fault somehow even though it’s not. But maybe it’s not really guilt, maybe it’s care and that you wish things were different. “Don’t overthink okay? It will not go away fast, that feeling will come back as often as you think.” He didn’t sugarcoat that part, why pretend it would just disappear when he knew it wouldn’t? “With time, it will just gets easier to carry.” He was smiling at her as he said, “Do you want me to walk you back to the castle? I got nothing to do after this anyway.” It’s the least he could do for her.
Calming Presence | The Muggle Condition
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 7 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 8 | Accu: 5
9 May 2026, 11:06
If I Die Young
location: owlery date: 09/02/2026
For some time Maisie hadn't realized, her breathing had became more regular, and the room wasn't as freezing anymore in the February air. The cobblestone floor was still cold when she laid her hand on it, but she felt warmer than she did coming in. Which was odd, as it was still winter and being stationary in a room for quite a while didn't help with feeling warm. But here she was, with a warm feeling in her chest, having replaced the tightness she had felt when she first started reading her letters containing the news of her sister's death. The whole thing felt surreal now, like a fever dream, and she wondered if what had just happened really happened.
She had known Millie would die for a while, and occasionally, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep; or doodling on the margins of her textbooks; or staring into nothing when she was supposed to be reading, she would think what it would be like the day she received the news she did today. Would it be a big flamboyant moment filled with tears and noise that she would remember afterwards, or the long walk to the door after being pulled away from a lesson on an ordinary day? Or would it just be told over breakfast by her brothers in a casual tone? Or happen in the middle of a big catastrophic event? It was, ironic for all her imagination, two simple letters from her brother and mother.
However, the first thing that would come to mind when recalling this later on, wouldn't be her brother's promise of chocolate frog cards or her mother's shaky handwriting, or the coldness of the winter air, rather, it would be who comforted her afterwards. Zephyr coming into the owlery was by chance, and it was by chance and chance alone, that she was still in the owlery while she processed the news. Who knew where she could be, if not sharing her feelings with somebody else? What if she kept the pain and confusion in her mind for too long and it all just exploded over minute things that could happen anytime? Maisie was glad, in short, that Zephyr was there to listen.
A huff of laughter escaped Maisie as she watched Zephyr's blank expression, and her smile remained on her face for a while after she stopped laughing. She chuckled as he insisted that he would be kicked out of Ravenclaw within the twenty-four hours mark, though she disagreed. Intelligence wasn't just about O's in every test, every exam and every evaluation; sometimes, it was about noticing when someone else needed company and a kind word or two. "I don't know, but listening is a lot harder than solving riddles and topping tests. Most people can't help speaking." Most Hufflepuffs she met showed that attribute perfectly, which was one of the things on the growing list of Hufflepuff qualities she should add. She really should make a list soon.
"I know. Don't you worry." Maisie said, with a small and what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Healing wasn't linear and grief certainly wasn't, either. Rain grows flowers, after all. And after the thunder and the rain, there is always a rainbow, peeking out in the horizon, if only you looked for it. She nodded at the idea of going back to the castle together. She would like his company for a little longer. "That sounds nice." She gathered up her letters. "And for the record... If you're ever stuck in the Ravenclaw common room —or any common room or anywhere, I'm sure you could just kick down the door. That'll count as 'doing something'."