The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 37
A/N: Héloïse’s evening goes from bad to… well, I’ll let you find out.
Warnings: mild angst, hurt comfort, fluff, angry French.
May 1897
The sound of Héloïse’s footsteps on the marble floor echoed around the entrance hall as she strode through it at a pace that was not quite a run. As she turned the corner and reached the grand staircase, she stopped and sat on one of the steps, the heels of her hands pressed against her forehead.
She had always considered herself to be a rational person, one who did not allow her emotions to cloud her usually sound judgement. She could only think of one time she had allowed them to do so, and that had been the previous year, after her father had passed away, and that had been what had led to her having to come here in the first place. She would not allow herself to make that mistake again.
And yet, though reason told her that she had many friends still at the ball with whom she could enjoy the rest of the evening, she found herself unable to pick herself up off the staircase and return. Reason would dictate that one person in a room filled with hundreds should not be so very important to her, and yet it was. He was. For whatever reason, reason was now failing her, and her emotions were ruling in her heart and her head, both of which had tightened and begun to ache. A drop of clear liquid fell onto the material of her robes, and she realised that she had started to cry.
“Héloïse?”
A voice. Jim’s voice. Héloïse looked up, and saw that Jim Hexley was walking towards her.
“Héloïse, are you… You’re crying.”
Héloïse said nothing, but she rolled her eyes at the idiocy of Jim’s comment and rose to her feet. Having spent all evening wishing that he would come over and talk to her, she no longer wanted to speak with him at all. She turned and walked up the staircase away from him, but he followed her, asking questions to the back of her head.
“Are you alright? What is the matter? Why are you so upset?”
Already annoyed, Héloïse turned and snapped at him, “Casse-toi!”
Jim blinked, clearly confused. Héloïse exhaled and recommenced climbing the staircase, only to be stopped in her tracks on the top step by Jim taking hold of her wrist. She wrenched it free from his grip.
“Je t’ai dit de dégager, hein?”
“Er, I don’t… I’m not sure what that means,” said Jim, frowning deeply. “I just… Will you not tell me - in English, preferably - what is wrong?”
Héloïse glared at him. “You. You are wrong.”
“About what?”
“Everything. And nothing, also,” she told him. He still looked confused. “I wish for you to go.”
“I don’t want to leave you when you’re upset.”
“In this case I will to go. Good night, Jim.”
“Héloïse, wait!”
But Héloïse had heard enough. She took another step, and as she did, the staircase began to move away from the landing at the top. This time, when Jim reached for her arm, she did not move away, but instead allowed him to pull her back from what was now a sheer drop from the top of the staircase all the way down to the marble floor below. The pair of them stumbled, and crashed into the bannister at their side, which Héloïse held onto with her free hand as the staircase swung across the hall to meet a new landing. She was now facing the opposite direction to where she wanted to go, but she did not move in any direction; instead she remained with her hand on the bannister, and took one deep shaky breath. Jim’s hand on her arm was also trembling.
“Are you hurt?” he asked her.
“Physically, no.” Héloïse pursed her lips for a moment before adding, “Thank you.”
“You’re… De rien.”
Héloïse nodded curtly before looking at where the staircases now led, trying to work out the quickest route she could now take back to Ravenclaw tower. She could almost feel Jim watching her do so.
“Héloïse, please,” he said quietly. “Tell me what… I know that you are upset with me, and I… Well, I’d like to know what it is that I’ve done. Whatever it is, I am truly sorry.”
Héloïse shook her head. “You did not do anything.”
“Then why-”
“I was thinking that we are friends.”
“We are.”
“But you did not do anything, all evening. You did not speak to me, you did not dance with me, I do not think that you looked at me.”
“Oh,” Jim grimaced. “No. I suppose that… Yes, you’re right. I am sorry. I did not think that it would cause you so much distress.”
“Why would you to think this?”
“Well, my sister said that… She said that I should do it. To vex you.”
Héloïse’s nostrils flared. “So, you were wanting to upset me.”
“No, no. I did not… It was not my intention to make you upset. I only… Er, never mind. It was a ludicrous idea.”
“I agree,” Héloïse said, still glaring. “Why is your sister wanting to vex me?”
“Because… She thought that it might make you… That you may regret your attending the ball with Henry and not me.”
“I am regretting my attending at all.”
“I can see that. I am sorry. I should not have ignored you. I should not have listened to Effy. It was just that… Well, I was upset that you did not agree to attend the ball with me.”
“This is not my fault. You were not asking me until after I said I would to go with Henry. If you wanted for me to go with you, then you should have asked sooner, no?”
“Yes. Perhaps that would have been better.”
“So?” Héloïse asked. “Why did you not ask before?”
“Because… Well, I… I do not know.” Jim closed his eyes. He looked as if he were in pain. “I have ruined everything.”
“Yes,” said Héloïse. “You have.”
They were both quiet for a few moments. Eventually, Jim seemed to realise that his hand still rested on her forearm. He removed it and cleared his throat.
“Well,” he said, “I think that I… It would probably be best if I return to my common room. I have spoiled enough of your evening. At least this way you can enjoy the rest of the ball.”
“I can to try.”
Jim inclined his head and walked down the stairs. He only made it a few steps before he stopped and turned back.
“Héloïse?”
“Jim?”
“I… If I had asked you sooner, would you have wanted to attend the ball with me?”
“Yes,” Héloïse told him. “I was wanting to go with you before you asked.”
Jim frowned. “So, why did you agree to go with Henry?”
“I was tired of waiting for you to ask.”
“Ah,” said Jim. “If I had known that I would have asked sooner.”
“Why did you not ask sooner?”
“I… Now I am not certain. I was worried that you might say no, or… or laugh at me, or think it impossible that you might…”
Héloïse stepped closer to him, her eyebrows furrowing deeply.
“That I might…”
“That you could ever think of me as anything other than a friend. That you may wish to be courted by… a buffoon.”
“I do not think that you are a buffoon.”
“You do not?”
“No.” Héloïse took another step. Her lips twitched slightly. “Although, tonight you are behaving like a buffoon.”
Jim laughed. “I do believe that you are right. I am sorry.”
“You have said this many times.”
“I mean it.”
“I believe you.”
“You do?” Jim asked,and Héloïse nodded. She was standing on the step above his now, with the extra height it gave her, she found that her eyes were level with his lips, which had started to curve. “I am… That is a relief. I thought that tonight… I had hoped it would go differently to this. And I know that you did as well. I am sorry.”
Héloïse laughed. “You can to stop saying this now.”
“I know. I will stop. I’m sorry.”
“You said it again.”
“I did. Sorry.”
“Stop!”
“Sorry, I…”
Before Jim could continue to apologise yet again, Héloïse rose onto the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his. She lifted both her hands so that they came to rest against the sides of his face, a rosy warmth growing under her fingers as she kissed him. When she removed her hands from his cheeks, she saw that they had flushed pink, and his lips remained parted as she withdrew her own. He blinked wordlessly, and she smirked.
“Et alors, il arrête,” she murmured. She had spoken to herself, and Jim said nothing in response. It appeared that he was unable to say anything at all. Héloïse tilted her head to one side. “Jim?” She took one of his hands in her own and squeezed it gently. “Jim.”
“Héloïse,” Jim replied, his voice barely more than a whisper as he looked down at their linked hands. As he raised his eyes to meet hers, he smiled. It was small, but so genuine that it appeared almost blissful. Héloïse leaned towards him, and he tensed. “We are unchaperoned.”
“This is probably for the best, no?”
Jim let out a gentle laugh that softened him. As their lips meet once more, his fingers intertwined with Héloïse’s, the tips of them running over her knuckles. She had not noticed how soft his hands were before, nor how tall he was, nor-
“Ahem.”
The sound of a throat being cleared cut into the moment, and Héloïse and Jim sprung apart as if burned. They both looked around to see who had caught them. Héloïse frowned. No one was there.
Confused, she looked to Jim, but his eyes were fixed on a point on the wall of the grand staircase, his face redder than she had ever seen it before. Following the line of his gaze, she quickly understood the reason for his embarrassment, and felt the blood start to rise in her own cheeks.
On the wall facing the staircase, several gold frames had become filled with the portraits of more than a dozen witches and wizards, three leprechauns, and one single ring-tailed lemur. Every single one of the portraits had their eyes on her and Jim, their faces displaying several different expressions, from nostalgic affection to stern disapproval to outright disgust. One of the portraits tutted loudly.
“Young people these days. Absolutely no sense of decorum.”
Héloïse turned to Jim. “What is decorum?”
“By Jove, she doesn’t even know the meaning of the word.” The portrait sighed. “I despair for future generations.”
“Perhaps we should to go back to the Great Hall,” Héloïse said to Jim. “I would very much like to dance with you tonight, if you are still wishing to attend the Ball with me.”
Jim took his eyes away from the wall of still muttering portraits and nodded.
“Héloïse,” he said, taking her by the hand, “I wish for nothing else.”
Together, they descended the rest of the steps and walked back to the Great Hall, where the music was still playing and the ceiling bright with a million stars that tonight seemed to shine just for them.
