Forget-Me-Not → Regulus Black

Scars and Secrets

Aurelia sat on the couch, bundled up in warm blankets and holding a small cup of hot chocolate in one hand, and a book in another. However, she was barely able to concentrate on the writing in the book that she was currently trying to read. Regulus Black was the only thing she could think of, which led her puzzled. Despite acting like she knew everyone just by looking at them, did she ever truly know Sirius? Did she ever know Regulus? Were there things James, Remus, or even Peter kept a secret, locked deep within the confines of their own mind? Aurelia assumed so — everyone had at least one secret; she was barely in a position of accusing others for lying, what with her dishonesty about her father being a muggle and all. Sirius never talked much about his brother, their ties were severely broken. Their once close relationship seemed nonexistent — as if it wasn't actually real, and merely a fantasy. Regulus' words were replaying on and on inside her head — preventing her from making the least bit of progress in what would usually be a flighty temptress adventure that her novel beheld.

"People like Sirius and I... We say 'I'm fine' in order to hide our scars, when in reality nothing is fine. Because no one is capable of understanding someone else's pain — even if it's explained."

Scars. They were both metaphorical and literal. Internal and external. Scars told stories, stories about neglect and abuse, stories about life's challenges and hardships. They were neither bad nor good, really, depending on how you looked at it. And while many would call them an imperfection, Aurelia saw them as everything that someone had overcome. They were beautiful.

"Dinners ready!" Aurelia heard her father exclaim, prompting her to abandon her hot chocolate and book by the couch.

Aurelia hurried to the kitchen, hastily folding the napkins and setting the water pitcher on the table. Her senses were tingling from the familiar smell of roast beef; an annual food that they had each year for Christmas. 

Clement Livierre forced a smile at his daughter. This was her fifth year that Christmas was spent with only the two of them, but Aurelia wouldn't have wanted it any other way. 

They were silent for the most part, aside from the occasional clinks from their silverware and glasses. The silence would have been absolutely suffocating to an outsider, but they were used to it, having abandoned their once cheery festivities. 

"Dad," began Aurelia quietly, "can you tell me about Mum?" She internally cringed at how childish her words were; they were like reliving her nine year old self. 

Her father didn't say anything for a while, contemplating on how he should phrase his next words. Elpida was a difficult topic to discuss, and it temporarily took him by surprise. "She was the most amazing person I ever laid eyes on," Clement said honestly. He gave a chuckle at a memory that happened ages ago, but what to him felt like just yesterday. 

Aurelia raised an amused brow, grinning briefly at her father's carefree nature. The only time he didn't fake a smile was when he was thinking about her. 

"Of course I didn't know she was a witch, and when I found out I was completely taken by surprise," he continued in an off-handed manner. 

"How did you find out?" Aurelia pressed, although her father had told her this story countless times.

"It was after a bunch of high-school kids were tackling me, for no apparent reason... Actually, I might have tackled them first. Mind you I was only ten at the time. After they left, she came, touched my bruised ribs, and it instantly healed. It was like magic."

"I wonder how it could have possibly been like magic," Aurelia mocked. "Could it possibly be because it was magic?"

Clement gave an eye roll at his daughter's behavior. "After that, I wanted to know more about her, and why she disappeared once a year. I walked to her parents' house, and they told me that she went to a boarding school. I believed them, and technically it was true. They just failed to mention the magic part of it.

She would come back every summer, and together we would get ice cream and go to amusement parks. She was completely thrilled by the roller coasters. But then, after turning seventeen, she told me everything. About how she went to a wizarding school with a bunch of wizards and witches, and how she practiced magic." 

Clement paused, surveying his daughter. "She was a lot like you." 

"She was?" Aurelia asked. Her father nodded fondly. 

"She was there for me at a time no one else was. Not only was she a singularly gifted witch, she was also an uncommonly kind woman. She had a way of seeing the beauty in others, even, and perhaps most especially, when that person couldn't see it in themselves."

Aurelia lay on her bed, her soft golden curls resembling that of a halo. Her eyelids felt heavy, but an image played before her in her mind's eye. It was that of a girl, who looked to be of the similar age as Aurelia, with the same golden hair and bright vivid green eyes. In her hand was a small light blue flower; resembling that of a Forget-me-not.