Symphony || Remus Lupin

XV

Aunt Euphemia laid out so many dishes and bowls and plates and ladles and forks and knives and spoons, it was as if she was feeding ten people, not five. She hovered the ceramic tray which had a large roasted chicken surrounded by roast vegetables and placed a bowl of some sort of sticky sauce next to it. A steak knife started cutting into the chicken and laying out the pieces on another, smaller tray.

As everyone started to grab the pieces of chicken and vegetables, Myra looked at the food. She only ever saw this much food at Hogwarts. She didn't know that she would ever be lucky enough to eat this kind of meal, much less in the presence of people who treat her like family. Because she is family.

"Eat up, don't be shy." Her aunt said, smiling warmly. Myra grinned and speared two slices of chicken along with slightly crispy roasted carrots and soft roast potatoes. She could already smell the thyme and rosemary, making her mouth water. She cut off some chicken and put it in her mouth and her tastebuds exploded.

The skin was crispy and salty and the inside was still tender. She got the Italian taste of rosemary and the earthy taste of thyme. Not bad earthy, good earthy. She swallowed.

"Aunt Euphemia, this is really good," Myra said. She grinned.

"Thank you, my dear."

There was a pregnant silence that was only filled by the clinking of cutlery. Myra wanted to ask about what Mr. Potter said, about wanting to talk about her past during dinner. She knew that he wouldn't tell her everything. No one ever gets told everything in the beginning. For example, if Bilbo was told about the trolls and goblins and orcs and everything else, he wouldn't have gone.

Well, now that she thought about it, Bilbo is a poor example. He would've gone even if Gandalf told him that he would've died on the first day.

"Dad," James asked, "You said you'd tell us about Myra's mum." Myra swallowed her bite and looked at Mr. Potter expectantly. She had been waiting for this since James told her she could come to his house, hoping and praying that she would learn about her past, why her mother deserved this fate.

"Right," Mr. Potter coughed awkwardly and glanced at each of them, "Are you sure? It may be a bit painful." He said this looking straight at Myra.

She nodded, "I need to know. It's a part of my past, Mr. Potter." He nodded and leaned back in his seat, his plate almost completely untouched.

"Where should I start?" He asked. Aunt Euphemia placed her hand upon his.

"How about from the beginning?" She asked. Mr. Potter nodded.

"I was born a twin," There was a sharp gasp. Before the story even began, James had already broken the silence. With a quick hiss at James, Sirius turned back to Mr. Potter, "I was the older one. Elizabeth was born about four minutes after me. My mother hadn't expected another child. Both my parents always assumed that they would have one child and raise it to be great, a boy, more specifically. My parents always spoke about how they only wanted one boy to carry out the family line. Elizabeth was never meant to be born.

"By the time we were five, I already knew that my parents liked me better. They sent us to the nearby muggle school to get a grasp of the world before we went to Hogwarts. They wanted us to understand how muggles were taught and compare it with Hogwarts later on. As I think about it now, I realize that they wanted us to believe that muggles were inferior to us wizards and witches."

No one made a single sound as Mr. Potter told his story. He looked blank and not present. It was as if he was losing himself in it, in his memories.