The Grandmother
There was a famous theatre company performing in town after its absence since the second wizarding war. The company never announced what sort of musical play they would perform but their performance was always beyond expectation. Everyone would always go in a heated battle only to secure a seat. Story had been waiting at the ticket booth to buy for days.
Three nights before the performance, Malfoy wrote to Story that he got three tickets for free but he wasn’t interested to go alone. His parents couldn’t attend because they had to be on a business trip to see their other investment.
“However,” Malfoy wrote in his letter, “I’ll go if you go.”
She read that particular sentence several times before slowly put down the letter and pondered about it for a moment. All while trying not to dance around the room like a mad woman.
Of all people Malfoy could have asked, he chose her.
“What if people see us together?” Story wrote in her letter. “Your parents won’t like it if they know.”
She couldn’t forget his father’s disapproving look when he saw them together in Grandmother’s birthday party.
“No one will see or talk about us,” he wrote the next morning. “We get box seat tickets. The whole box is privately for us. Usually, they will let us with balcony tickets in first. The employees don’t know who we are. Don’t start asking about what I’m going to do with the third ticket.”
She giggled as she wrote back, “I was about to ask you that. Please tell me that you’re bringing a very charming male friend. I’d really love to get to know him.”
“I hate to break it for you,” Malfoy told Story when they finally met at the entrance to their designated balcony in the opera hall, “but I actually don’t have a charming male friend to accompany you.”
She crossed her hands. “Then my eyes must’ve been fooling me.”
He frowned. “What do you mean—”
“Because I’m looking at one right now.”
He looked a bit flabbergasted. She giggled.
But she wasn’t lying, though. Blonde hair pushed black, grey sharp eyes and black blazer with black shirt underneath that showcased the outline of his toned chest. She couldn’t tear her gaze away when she watched him fixing the cuff of his shirt before she met him.
Her giggle quickly turned into a soft gasp when she felt his hand on her small back.
“Stop playing around,” he muttered, his voice was dangerously low and close to her ear. She felt heat spreading on her face. “Let’s get inside.”
Malfoy was right. When they were entering the hall, she saw people with first until third floors ticket waiting for open gate. An employee led them to their designated box. The box area was small with three empty seats facing the stage from above. She saw Malfoy giving some money to the employee who led them into the box. When he sat down, she was debating whether to ask him about it.
Actually, there were a lot of burning questions that she wanted to throw at him that evening.
She turned to the empty seat beside her. “What did you do with the third ticket?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “I didn’t know whom to invite anyway.”
So many people would pay for a high price if he sold it. She was about to tell him that when she realised that Malfoy had more than enough to fund his entire life.
“Last time, they performed a fantasy and thriller play,” Story tried to change the topic after they sat in silence for a while. “I don’t think that they will perform the same genre again.”
“You like watching plays, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Especially performance from this theatre company,” Warmth began to spread in her chest when she recounted her happy memories with her parents. “It’s sad that Daphne can’t attend tonight.”
“Why?”
“Her dear friend died during the mission,” she told him gloomily after recalling how Daphne had been crying on Story’s shoulder all night. He was actually her boyfriend that she had started dating in secret. “She’s attending his funeral today.”
Malfoy sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll tell her that,” she smiled a bit. “Thank you.”
He rested his arm on the armrest. “This is why I don’t want to be an Auror even though I’m more than qualified to be one.”
She cocked her head. “Is it because of death?”
“Death is less scary than going on your days without knowing what will happen in the very next minute.” He looked terrified with his own statement. “I don’t want to go on my life like that ever again.”
She frowned. “Again?”
Before she could get any answer, lights were off except for the spotlight above the stage. An actor and an actress stood back-to-back beneath the bright white light. Their bodies moved fluidly as soon as the music started, holding each other so close like two lovers and singing together.
“If my voice can move a rock! If my song can light the dark,” the female lead, Elenora, began to sing, “Then let this fleeting life I hold be carried in each spark!”
“And I will weave the notes for you! A symphony that never dies!” The male lead, Cassius, held Elenora’s hands before twirl her around. “Together we’ll create a tune to echo through the skies.”
“Cassius, oh, you poor young soul! Blinded by love’s control!” the villagers were scolding Cassius while walking around him and singing in harmonious melodies, “The beauty with the songs she brings! Has she ever spoken her true feelings!"
“I do not doubt her! I truly love her!” Cassius snapped at the villagers. “My heart belongs to her! My soul will rest with her!”
Suddenly, Elenora collapsed on the stage while performing a song written by Cassius. All characters rushed to help her while dramatically dancing around. Cassius transferred her to a small bed that a village elder character had brought out. They all sang frantically to show concern while the village elder was examining the female lead.
“There is a truth you must hear,” a village elder sang solemnly with his deep voice that Story was quite familiar with. She had seen him in previous plays. He faced Cassius with great sadness on his face before gently reaching for the male lead’s shoulder. “A curse shadows what you hold dear.”
Story suddenly felt chills running down her spine.
“Long ago, in the darkest night, a voice rose up, pure and bright,” the village elder continued. “But the heavens grew jealous, their wrath unfurled. They cursed that voice to leave this world.”
“Each note I sing steals a heartbeat,” Elenora sang with tears after she woke up to tell everyone that she actually knew about the curse. The whole opera hall could hear her sobbing without overlapping the lyrics that she pronounced carefully. “Each word a whisper of time. Oh, Cassius, I’ve wanted to tell you—I would never ever lie to you—"
Story suddenly felt like she was a little girl again in her pink dress. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, her cheeks felt damp because of her flowing tears.
“Oh, Cassius, do you not see?” One of the villagers sang with rage at Cassius. “The doom that love will bring to thee?”
When she looked up with teary eyes, Grandmother was right in front of her with a belt in her hand. She closed her eyes, counting to ten. But when she opened them, Grandmother was still there. She wondered if Iris’s trick no longer worked anymore.
“The curse is all you are, my dear!” Cassius started to insult Elenora. But all Story could see was Grandmother shouting at her. Story put her hands protectively over her face and chest, fearing for another spank on her body with the deadly belt. “A blight, a stain, unwelcome here!”
“Greengrass—”
“You’ve tainted my name, my pride!” Grandmother continued before raising her belt. Story cried in pain when Grandmother’s belt hit her small arms and body. The pain stung so bad that Story collapsed on the cold floor. “Yet still you dare to stand in my sight!”
Story sobbed. Her lips tasted like metal. “I’m sorry, Grandmother.”
“You’ve brought disgrace! You’ve done your worst!” Grandmother roared before slapping her small body with the belt again. Story could only cry while enduring the pain and curling on the floor. “Die now and lift this family’s curse!”
“Greengrass!”
Story tried to close her eyes again and count to ten again.
“Greengrass?” The familiar, warm and comforting voice retorted and it was getting clearer in her ears. “Merlin! Are you alright? Can you hear me? Hello?”
When Story opened her eyes again, she was once again a little girl in her pink dress, lying on the cold floor. She was greeted by a pair of grey stormy eyes staring into her teary eyes deeply as if searching for answer. She knew those eyes. They felt ironically warm like Mum’s embrace whenever she was having a nightmare. They looked trustable even though Mum and Dad always told her and Daphne not to trust anyone on their first meeting.
She got up on her little feet.
The man with grey eyes and blonde hair crouched down before her. “Are you alright—"
She threw herself against him.
She buried her face in his clothes and cried. The man’s whole body stiffened in shock as if he wasn’t used to any of her attitude. After a while, she felt a pair of huge arms slowly wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him. He was surprisingly warm despite what people said about him. Warm and comfortable like Mum and Dad’s bed whenever she was having a nightmare.
She closed her eyes. She wanted to stay there forever.
“Intermission,” an announcement filled the air, “for fifteen minutes.”
Story slowly opened her eyes.
She was back in the box seat. Grandmother was nowhere to be seen. Her dress was no longer pink and frilly. His arms were securely around her, holding her so close to him that she could feel his heartbeat through layers of his black clothes. Her head was resting on his shoulder.
His shoulder?
Story gasped. “Good heaven! I’m so sorry!
She tried to disentangle herself from him. However, Malfoy tightened his hold on her waist.
“Relax. No one is around,” he whispered. “The box is entirely for us, remember?”
Her heart raced. She had never dreamt that to hug him, let alone having his arms around her until everything smelled like him. But, since Malfoy didn’t show any intention to let her go, she finally remained still in his arms. She was too exhausted to fight and endure.