'To new beginnings' is so cliché
Her hair was black again. She had magically dyed it back the morning she had left Hogwarts for the summer break. And now she was back in the cold, huge, dark manor she called home, inhabited year-round by only her mother and the family's two house elves. The girl was sitting at her vanity in her bedroom. Her suitcase was opened but otherwise untouched by her bed. Her clothes, school materials and other belongings neatly packed or folded in the enchanted suitcase. Arachne, her spider, had already started weaving a web in a corner of the room. Anastasia, back straight as she stared at herself in the mirror, was thinking.
Every time she came back in this house, it felt less and less like home. The absence of Andrew Varney could be felt in every room, but especially the library and the vampire's study. Anastasia hadn't set foot in any of those rooms in four years, feeling like crying any time she would approach them. And the guilt that she felt was only drifting her mother further away from her. From what she knew, Mathilda had always thought her daughter had a part of responsibility in her husband's death. But was it really her fault?
Sighing, Anastasia dropped her head in her hands. He had asker her if she wanted answers to questions she didn't even really have. He had decided to answer them anyways. He had fled. So was it really her fault? She had said yes to answers. She had asked questions. But she had been twelve. Barely a teenager, who had been learning to live with other people than her family for the first time, who had been overwhelmed by noise, and people, and a lot of things, who had blamed herself for her father's death. Who still blames herself, four years later.
Anastasia knew she couldn't continue like this. Blaming herself for something that wasn't was maybe wasn't her fault. Her mother definitely hadn't helped her change this mindset, with those heavy silences, requests hidden behind questions and cold stares. She loved her mother, of course she did. But did she love her? Sighing again, she stood up and changed out of the clothes she was worn in the Hogwarts Express and into black dress pants with a fitted white shirt for dinner. She had a silver necklace on, one gifted by her mother. The girl took it off and laid it gently on the vanity just as a knock came at the door. "Come in!" Vikka, one of the house elves, gently opened the door. "Miss Anastasia, the table is set in the dining room. Lady Mathilda is waiting for you."
The girl had thanked the elf before making her was to the dining room. The ebony table, capable of sitting a dozen people, was set for two. Two plates, face to face, at the middle of the table. Mathilda Blackwood-Varney was already sat, a hollowness in her eyes that had appeared four years ago. Anastasia sat down, and Tinky, the other house elf, came in with the starters— a greek salad and some roasted vegetables. "So, Anastasia. How was your school year? Did you join the duelling team like I suggested?" The girl helped herself a serving of salad before answering, tone as flat as her mother's. "I have. But I quit. I participated in two duels but it wasn't for me. And my year was like usual, uneventful." Mathilda simply nodded, and went back to eating.
Diner had moved to the main course before Anastasia talked again. "Mother?" She moved a piece of salmon around her plate. "Yes?" came the reply. "Do you actually believe Father died because of me?" Mathilda sipped on her wine, put her glass down, and sighed. Her gold jewelry caught the light as she moved to really face her daughter, looking at her in the eyes. Deep brown in light gray. "I believe you had your part in it. Andrew had his. And the Varneys as a family had theirs. I never believed it was entirely your fault, Anastasia, and I am sorry if I made you feel like I believed that."
And Anastasia didn't feel any relief, hearing those words. She thought it would make her feel better, hearing those kinds of words from her mother's mouth. But no, she didn't feel better, nor did she feel worse. She wasn't feeling anything, really. She stayed there, sitting still with her back straight, looking at her mother, looking expressionless. Her features stayed neutral, a look she had mastered after years of not wanting to be noticed, a look she sometimes had trouble changing to something else. "Oh, okay."
No more words were exchanged until dessert. "Do you think you'll be going to summer camp this summer?" Staying with most Hogwarts students a month more than she needed to? With kids from other schools as well? In a more or less chaotic cabin, with constant noise and animation? If she went, it would only be to get out of this house. "I haven't decided yet. I might go spend a few days with Peter in August. I'll let you know when we decide on something." Anything to get out of here. Anything to get away from those memories, from her mother.
Once the table had been cleared out, before both women went back to their side of the castle, Anastasia cleared her throat. "This... This might be the last summer I spend in the mansion. I don't think I want to come here anymore, it's been too long since this place has truly felt like home." Her eyes were fixed on the white tablecloth as she said this, unwilling to see her mother's reaction to those words. Not that Mathilda had any say in her decision, since she would be seventeen next January. She would be able to do whatever she wanted. "I was wondering when you would be telling me this." Calm as ever, her mother had replied like she had known all along that this was coming. And maybe she had. Anastasia watched her mother again. "I have a building, in London. You can have it if you want it. You will also have access to what Andrew left for you when you'll turn seventeen. I am not throwing you out, this manor is yours as much as it is mine. But you are old enough to make your own decisions, Anastasia, so if you want to move out, I am simply giving you options."
Surprised was not enough to qualify what the girl was feeling at the moment. A whole builing? In London? "I think I will not attend this year's summer camp, and that I will be moving out to the building you just told me about. Thank you, for the place in London." That was her new beginning. To her, trying to live again.
Every time she came back in this house, it felt less and less like home. The absence of Andrew Varney could be felt in every room, but especially the library and the vampire's study. Anastasia hadn't set foot in any of those rooms in four years, feeling like crying any time she would approach them. And the guilt that she felt was only drifting her mother further away from her. From what she knew, Mathilda had always thought her daughter had a part of responsibility in her husband's death. But was it really her fault?
Sighing, Anastasia dropped her head in her hands. He had asker her if she wanted answers to questions she didn't even really have. He had decided to answer them anyways. He had fled. So was it really her fault? She had said yes to answers. She had asked questions. But she had been twelve. Barely a teenager, who had been learning to live with other people than her family for the first time, who had been overwhelmed by noise, and people, and a lot of things, who had blamed herself for her father's death. Who still blames herself, four years later.
Anastasia knew she couldn't continue like this. Blaming herself for something that wasn't was maybe wasn't her fault. Her mother definitely hadn't helped her change this mindset, with those heavy silences, requests hidden behind questions and cold stares. She loved her mother, of course she did. But did she love her? Sighing again, she stood up and changed out of the clothes she was worn in the Hogwarts Express and into black dress pants with a fitted white shirt for dinner. She had a silver necklace on, one gifted by her mother. The girl took it off and laid it gently on the vanity just as a knock came at the door. "Come in!" Vikka, one of the house elves, gently opened the door. "Miss Anastasia, the table is set in the dining room. Lady Mathilda is waiting for you."
The girl had thanked the elf before making her was to the dining room. The ebony table, capable of sitting a dozen people, was set for two. Two plates, face to face, at the middle of the table. Mathilda Blackwood-Varney was already sat, a hollowness in her eyes that had appeared four years ago. Anastasia sat down, and Tinky, the other house elf, came in with the starters— a greek salad and some roasted vegetables. "So, Anastasia. How was your school year? Did you join the duelling team like I suggested?" The girl helped herself a serving of salad before answering, tone as flat as her mother's. "I have. But I quit. I participated in two duels but it wasn't for me. And my year was like usual, uneventful." Mathilda simply nodded, and went back to eating.
Diner had moved to the main course before Anastasia talked again. "Mother?" She moved a piece of salmon around her plate. "Yes?" came the reply. "Do you actually believe Father died because of me?" Mathilda sipped on her wine, put her glass down, and sighed. Her gold jewelry caught the light as she moved to really face her daughter, looking at her in the eyes. Deep brown in light gray. "I believe you had your part in it. Andrew had his. And the Varneys as a family had theirs. I never believed it was entirely your fault, Anastasia, and I am sorry if I made you feel like I believed that."
And Anastasia didn't feel any relief, hearing those words. She thought it would make her feel better, hearing those kinds of words from her mother's mouth. But no, she didn't feel better, nor did she feel worse. She wasn't feeling anything, really. She stayed there, sitting still with her back straight, looking at her mother, looking expressionless. Her features stayed neutral, a look she had mastered after years of not wanting to be noticed, a look she sometimes had trouble changing to something else. "Oh, okay."
No more words were exchanged until dessert. "Do you think you'll be going to summer camp this summer?" Staying with most Hogwarts students a month more than she needed to? With kids from other schools as well? In a more or less chaotic cabin, with constant noise and animation? If she went, it would only be to get out of this house. "I haven't decided yet. I might go spend a few days with Peter in August. I'll let you know when we decide on something." Anything to get out of here. Anything to get away from those memories, from her mother.
Once the table had been cleared out, before both women went back to their side of the castle, Anastasia cleared her throat. "This... This might be the last summer I spend in the mansion. I don't think I want to come here anymore, it's been too long since this place has truly felt like home." Her eyes were fixed on the white tablecloth as she said this, unwilling to see her mother's reaction to those words. Not that Mathilda had any say in her decision, since she would be seventeen next January. She would be able to do whatever she wanted. "I was wondering when you would be telling me this." Calm as ever, her mother had replied like she had known all along that this was coming. And maybe she had. Anastasia watched her mother again. "I have a building, in London. You can have it if you want it. You will also have access to what Andrew left for you when you'll turn seventeen. I am not throwing you out, this manor is yours as much as it is mine. But you are old enough to make your own decisions, Anastasia, so if you want to move out, I am simply giving you options."
Surprised was not enough to qualify what the girl was feeling at the moment. A whole builing? In London? "I think I will not attend this year's summer camp, and that I will be moving out to the building you just told me about. Thank you, for the place in London." That was her new beginning. To her, trying to live again.
| Anastasia Blackwood-Varney Mors irrumat omnia |
'To new beginnings' is so cliché
Dear Peter,
I have decided to move out. Mother has a building in London, she said she would give it to me if I wanted it, which I do. I can't live in this house anymore, even if it's just for the summer. I can't stand Mother's silences and judgment.
I am writing to you to make you aware that I will be moving, and also to ask you if Liz and you would like to help me move into the new house? I would love you guys' help is Liz isn't going to summer camp. I'm obviously not going.
She showed me the building the other day, we went through Floo. The building, Peter. It's not too far from Diagon's Alley, which is great. It's three stories tall, with ivy all over it since obviously, no one really went to check on it. There is a half full library, but I'll be taking books from the manor so it will be full in no time. And there is a GRAND PIANO in the attic. It needs tuning but I know it will sound so good after that. You'll see it for yourself, but it's such a nice house! I really see myself living there, which is good since that's what I will be doing soon enough.
I already started packing, I plan on moving out August 1st. Tell me if you can come, both of you or just you.
See you soon,
Anastasia
| Anastasia Blackwood-Varney Mors irrumat omnia |