/𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒\ [𝒔. 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌]

𝟕.𝟙.𝟣

"forgive me my nonsense as I also forgive the nonsense of those who think they talk sense." ~ Robert Frost

~july 1976~

July washed over Artemis's hometown in Yorkshire like a tidal wave of hazy days and sunlit dusty evenings. The quiet sat with Artemis in her childhood bedroom as she paged lazily through her dad's old books the way she did when she was little. The last few days had been a sluggish whirlwind of catching up with her mother, finally getting to know her step-father, Alfie, and re-acquainting herself with the world she used to know so well. The streets she used to tramp daily with Percy felt like another dimension compared to the hallowed hallways of the castle where she'd spent the last seven years.

In a strange way, Artemis had expected going back home to make her feel like a child again. She thought hugging her mother for the first time in years would make her dissolve back into the scared little eleven year old she was the last time she felt at home in that house. But upon seeing Jane, a little grayer now, her eyes brighter than ever, Artemis had felt ages older than she was. The town was like a relic she was excavating, a lost world like the ones her mother used to read to her about.

And on top of that, her old bed was too small for her now. Not that it didn't fit her, it wasn't a kid's bed, but it felt like a place for eleven year old Artemis, not sixteen year old Artemis. She felt too big when she was sitting on it, too big for the house, too big for the town.

"Artie!" Jane's voice floated up the stairs like music, more comforting than anything Artemis had ever known. "Come down and help with dinner!"

Artemis dog-eared the page of her book, a bad habit she'd picked up from Remus, and tossed it on the rug next to the towering stack she'd brought down from the attic on her first night. She'd already scribbled out a reminder to herself to bring some of the books back to school with her at the end of the summer.

When she got to the kitchen, her mother was standing at the stove, dancing a little to the music crooning through the radio. "I'm making meatloaf and salad," she said when Artemis strode in. "Do you mind cutting up those carrots over there? Small slices, okay? And use this knife- it's not as sharp."

Artemis suppressed a smile. Her mum had been treating her like a child ever since she'd gotten there, but it didn't bother her as much as she'd expect it to. The years after her dad died had been hard, and she'd had to grow up too fast, but if her mum wanted to make things right after all those years, who was Artemis to try and stop her?

She took the knife and started slicing the carrots, careful the whole time just to please Jane. Her eyes softened listening to her mum hum along to the music and bob her head as she mashed potatoes. "Who's this? Simon and Garfunkle?" Artemis asked, grinning over at her mum.

"Neil Young, love, I thought you'd know." Jane gave her a jokingly superior look.

"And why's that?"