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Azalea Murray
Head of Slytherin
Head of Slytherin
Azalea Murray


Posts : 664
Birthday : 1993-08-13
Join date : 2018-01-11
Location : Hogwarts or Surrey mostly
Job/hobbies : Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts

Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022 - Page 4 Empty
PostSubject: Re: Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022   Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022 - Page 4 EmptyWed Jun 21, 2023 10:09 pm

Chapter Thirty One
The Face of God

The utmost devout had always accredited hard work as the key to finding a God. Through perspiration of the body and exhaustion of the soul came purity, divinity pouring down from the heavens to drench the long-awaited mortal shells of the followers destined to seek their creator on earth. No matter the variety of faith, the bond between creator and created always strengthened through manual labour and intense reflection.

But what of those who didn’t sweat? Despite hours of working out in the sun, pulling weeds, pruning bushes, digging out rotting roots and burning dried tree branches, what If no iota of tiredness touched a body, no line of toil touched the brow? Was Azalea than one of the forsaken?

The women had never identified with any religion, partly due to having no sway towards one from her own primary parenting duo and partly because she had seen the evil people committed in the name of a God who preached compassion and inclusion. Yet the brunette had always known she believed in something. Whether that something demanded attendance at a church, a prayer before bed or a sacrifice through abstinence, no one could say. It was her faith however, that had brought her to Milwaukee. Not knowing what she was looking for out here, she had regardless known that she would find it.

And find it she did, three weeks in.

It was on a sunny spring day in April when Azalea was outside in the Blakes sole greenhouse. Neither Jackson nor Victoria had a great fondness for gardening so the task of maintaining their lavish outdoor spaces had been largely left to the staff. After cleaning the acres of land until it was almost new, Azalea had decided to not only plant some flowers (a sentiment that was almost against her personal morals but she would do it for Victoria) as well as some useful fruits and vegetables that could be harvested in the months to come. Dressed in simple blue overall and not much else, the former Nightshade broke earth with a hand shovel, making a seventh hole in the row she was planting carrots in.

And that was when she heard it.

“Hi you.”

Azalea didn’t turn around, afraid that if she did, the illusion would vanish. Though she knew it wouldn’t. She had always known when he was nearby, her body so attuned to his presence she had long believed they existed on the exact same wavelength, each other’s.

“Those overalls are hot,” he commented, swimming just outside her vision. “But they’d look better on the floor.”

Her breath hitched but she dared not gasp too loud. If she had to eliminate every sound and movement of her body to make this moment last, she would.

“Azalea, please relax,” he coaxed, moving towards her. She felt his familiar hand on her back, his callused fingers stroking her porcelain skin. She took in a deep breath, the scent of his aftershave washing over her like fresh oxygen to someone who had been drowning for a thousand years. “I’m here… for now.”

The last two words, more than anything, made her look up, confirming that he was indeed there. His tanned features gazed adoringly down at her, his face marked by years of laugh lines and the odd scar. His grey/blue eyes twinkled kindly down at her, as if both understanding her dilemma and being amused by it. Jake had chosen a simple army green T shirt and stone washed jeans for his final appearance, and his wife knew why. Jake had never been much for fanfare, it was one of other many reasons why he was irreplaceable in every world.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying desperately to keep her tone even. The last thing she wanted was to shatter the illusion through an emotional outbursts.

Jake considered her question a moment, then nodded. “‘Okay’ isn’t really a concept here. But it’s not bad.” Then, answering her unasked question, he added. “I’m not in pain, Azalea. And there’s no sorrow or regret here either. Just a bit of a wait… Like at the train station.”

The brunette nodded, her eyes hungrily taking in his form, as if he would disappear any moment. “You’re here because… I didn’t get to say goodbye?”

Once again, Jake paused, contemplating her question. “You were never far away enough for that,” he finally answered, gazing down at her as if she was the divine. “You are always with me, whether we’re together or apart. I’ve kept you safe in a place that cannot be encroached upon.”

She had no choice but to believe him, because she knew instantly how he did that. She did it too. Jake was kept safely inside her in the exact same way.

“Why did you have to go?” she asked, tears of frustration gathering above her eyelashes, tears she refused to acknowledge or let fall. “You knew what that would do to me. To the children. How could you leave me to live on in this world alone? You promised you’d never leave me.”

He reached out a hand to gently stroke her cheek, tracing her sharp cheekbone with his index finger. Azalea felt his longing for a second, magnified a thousand times by her own. “Why couldn’t you take me with you?” she asked instead when no answer came.

“It wasn’t your time, Azalea. It won’t be for a while yet.”

I don’t care!” the woman raised her voice, grief and petulance fighting for dominance in her tone. “I just want to be where you are. Whether it’s here or… there, I don’t care.”

Jake remained quiet, unable to answer her questions, unable to give her what she was begging with her whole heart for. Instead he pulled her into a hug, his arm strong and solid around her as the first tear fell on his shirt. More tears followed, and he held her through all of them, occasionally murmuring soft sounds that made no sense but were them. Had always been them. Would always be them.

Finally, when she was all cried out, Azalea looked up at her husband’s face again. He was still there, still solid, still looking at her as if seeing something too precious to encapsulate into words.

“You know you’ve always made me so proud,” he asked, encouraging her softly to agree to his statement. “You’re the most amazing person I will ever know, back there or in the hereafter… And I can’t think of a better mother to our children, and there are some really great dead moms on this side.”

Despite herself, she elbowed him for the joke, making him emit a soft “ow”.

“What do I do now?” she asked, looking searchingly into his eyes. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“You don’t have to,” he answered with so much reassurance, she wanted to cry all over again. “Someone once said that the ones we… care for, never truly leave us.”

Deep shame welled up inside her. How many chances had she had to tell him, and she had let her own fears, insecurities and mundane emotions stop her. It was the only thing he had truly wanted. He had never said as much but she knew he had wanted it. She had caught him whispering it to her on nights when he thought she was asleep. And yet she hadn’t returned the sentiment even once.

But he had to know, didn’t he?

“I knew,” Jake nodded, tightening his grip on her slender frame. “I knew it in every moment we spent together. Just because we didn’t say it-”

“I love you,” Azalea burst out. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I loved you when we were fighting, I loved you when we were apart, and I loved you with every breath in my body and every beat of my heart in all the time we were together. And what’s more, I will never stop loving you Jake Newbury, no power in this universe can make me stop loving you, ever.”

“I love you too, Azalea,” Jake beamed down at her before dropping a soft kiss to her forehead. “And I always will, that doesn’t change, anywhere, ever.”

They stayed in the Greenhouse for a long time, sometimes talking, sometimes basking in each other’s silences. Azalea remembered more crying, more questions, Jake answering them more patiently than he would have in his lifetime, and dissolving into quiet when he couldn’t. Above all, they knew they had to make the most of this moment, this fleeting space between time that existed only for them. After today, she wouldn’t be able to see him for a long time, and they both had to make their peace with it.

When Jake had to go, he did so gently, lulling her to sleep with his whispers and touches, making promises he knew he could keep, and above all telling her how he would always be with her. He wanted her to live a full life yet, and she couldn’t promise that because her life could never be full without him.

But she promised she would try.

His warmth and scent remained long after he had gone, leaving Azalea to curl up on the greenhouse floor where Jacques would find her near nightfall.


1618 words

________________________________________________

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Azalea Murray
Head of Slytherin
Head of Slytherin
Azalea Murray


Posts : 664
Birthday : 1993-08-13
Join date : 2018-01-11
Location : Hogwarts or Surrey mostly
Job/hobbies : Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts

Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022 - Page 4 Empty
PostSubject: Re: Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022   Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022 - Page 4 EmptyTue Sep 19, 2023 5:19 pm

Chapter Thirty Two
If I Die Young

“Hey Ive, catch!” Andrew quipped as he got out of the taxi, pretending to throw his duffel bag at his brother. Ivan Newbury screwed his face up in protest, both hands ready to shield his face before Andrew let out a laugh, swinging his bag back over his shoulder. “Pussy.”

“Very funny, Andrew. No car this time?”

The younger brother dismissed his cabbie with a wave of his hand before turning to Ivan. “Nah, Jenny’s still in the Amazons, doing weird plant things.” A look of confusion crossed the young man’s face before he added as an afte4tthought. “Have you ever found things your mom can do incredibly hot on another person?”

“You’re depraved.”

Andrew merely shrugged, accepting that. “Though, speaking of Mom, do you know why she called us home?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I had to take emergency leave amidst the G Summit preparations. The Clements are hosting it this year and- “

“Flemme, flemme, flemme, flemme, flemme,” Andrew cut across his brother with the familiar roll of his eyes, making Ivan frown. Luckly, the conversation was interrupted as their mother came to teh door.

“Andrew, welcome home sweetheart. How was the flight?” The brunette reached out to hug her son, who had arrived about half a day later than his brother. “How’s Jennifer? I hope she wasn’t too worried when I called you home.”

Andrew greeted his mom by wrapping both his rms around her, burying is head in her shoulder. “Flight was lousy, as expected. Jen’s fine. She barely noticed when I left, but then again she was studying some genome of the Venus fly trap so I’m chopped liver next to that.”

Azalea laughed, ushering both boys in. Despite still being miffed at his brother, Ivan offered to make drinks. Soon, the cups were resting on the kitchen counter: Ivan’s French press, Azalea’s American brew and Andrew’s Earl Grey tea. After fifteen minutes of catching up, it was Ivan who broached the subject first.

“So Mom… is everything alright? You worried us when you asked us to come home unexpectedly.”

The brunette nodded, and Ivan noticed the familiar silver highlight in her hair. When had she started dying her hair again?

“I didn’t mean to worry you guys, but I’ve been thinking over something ever since I got back from the states.” The woman replied, reflecting on the month she had been back. Following her encounter with Jake, Azalea and Jacques had not spend much more time at the Blakes’ home. Two days later, they had packed and left, leaving the house in immaculate condition. Victoria had called to personally thank her three days later when Azalea was safely home.

Jacques hadn’t stayed, leaving for France straight from the airport.

And she hadn’t asked him to. She had to do the next part alone.

“This last year has been… so incredibly difficult for all of us. And both your dad and I are so, so, so proud of how well you boys have handled it. It’s every parent’s dream to watch their children grow up and become such amazing adults… And you both gave us our dreams, boys. I want you to always know that.”

Ivan looked at her worriedly while Andrew voiced out their collective fear. The Newbury brothers were always like that, completely at odds usually but singularly attuned to each other in moments of strife. “What do you mean Mom?”

“There’s no need to worry. I’ve just had some time to think… And I think we didn’t get a chance to give your dad a proper goodbye. I knew we had that ceremony at the church with Nanny and Auntie Vic and the rest… But that was never your dad’s thing. The people he… loved most in the world, are all in this room. And I feel he deserves a more personal goodbye from all of us.”

Ivan was he first to nod in understanding. “What would you like us to do?”

“Nothing big,” Azalea assured him, a calmness in her tone the boys hadn’t heard all year. She looked more settled somehow, as if she had reached a point in her life where she could continue. If not happily than a least peacefully. “I though we’d just stand in the garden, under your dad’s favourite tree and say a few words. You know, he planted that tree before Ivan was born. In the hopes that his kids would one day have a tree house to play in. But he was such an abysmal gardener that by the time I came into his life again, the tree was only a shrub. I gave him some help and in a week, it become a full grown tree.” They knew the rest. How the tree had housed their childhood treehouse, which had eventually become Andrew’s treehouse when Ivan had abandoned it after a fall. As teenagers, it was the only place the boys had gotten along in, trading it off thinking they’ll keep their smoking and reading secret from their parents.

“You don’t have to say anything at all if you don’t want to. Your dad wasn’t a man of many words, he was just always there for us. So maybe we can be there for him one last time?”

“Like an homage,” Ivan offered, using the French pronunciation. “A proper adieu.” It was a mark of how stunned Andrew was that he didn’t make fun of his brother.

Finally, over cups of hot coffee and tea, the boys and their mother made tentative plans to carry out this final goodbye the next day.

***

It was a bright day, the sun gleaming high in the sky well before noon. Summer was fast approaching and with it, almost a year to the day their lives had changed forever. Azalea Newbury stood under the shady oak tree with both her sons on either side of her. Though a dress code had not been discussed for the occasion, Ivan had somehow dug up a suit. Upon closer examination, she saw that it ws the same one he had worn at his college graduation. Jake had made a small speech after, saying how proud he was of his genius son who definitely took after his mom. She could see why Ivan had chosen to wear it.

Andrew on the other hand had on Quidditch gear, his uniform that didn’t fit very well from Seventh year but was a reminder of how hard he and his father had worked to beat the Slytherin team that year. Afterwords, Jake had taken Andrew out for a not entirely legal drink.

As for Azalea, she was in her usual garb of light blue, well-worn jeans and a black turtleneck, an ensemble very similar to the one she had worn when she had first met a young Jake Newbury. Over her turtleneck, she wore the familiar Belladonna Jacket she would never outgrow. The number “7” embossed under his name would always be her security blanket.

“Who’d like to go first?”

Ivan cleared his throat, pulling out note cards from his breast pocket. He had clearly spent some time thinking of what to say. Despite his suit and cards, he looked like a small, lost child. And in a way, he was.

“Dad,” Ivan began, his eyes on his cards for assurance alone. “I miss you. We all do. And... we don’t know how to stop.” His breath hitched and Azalea reached out to squeeze his arm. The touch gave him courage and he continued. “Everything just feels… less without you. Like the world isn’t as full as it used to be. You always had a way of making everything seem better… safer. Now… we have to learn to do that on our own. And it’s difficult.”

The young man shivered despite the warm sun, narrowing his eyes until the words in front of him blurred. “It couldn’t have been easy with me. I know I wasn’t the son you had in mind… I wasn’t good at Quidditch, I wanted to read all your PlayWitch magazines instead of looking at the pictures, I never liked beer or beef burgers… But you were still proud of me. You supported me in all my decisions, you defended me when no one else would… You never thought of me as a disappointment-“ Andrew’s voice finally broke, tears brimming on his lashes.

“You taught me how to be a real man, to go after my dreams and to reach for the stars… You are my hero, Dad. Rest in peace, you’ve earned it.”

Ivan’s hands were shaking so badly by the time he was finished, the cards almost slipped his grasp. It was his brother who reached out to steady him, giving him a sideways hug.

“Andrew, do you want to say something?”

The younger Newbury shook his head, then shook it again. Initially he had decided on saying nothing at all but now, he seemed to have had a change of heart.

“Hi dad,” he looked up uncertainty at the sky, then at the tree, as if not sure which to address. “I’m not great with words… I’m like you in that way,” he let out a small chuckle though his grief was clear. “But we never really needed words huh? We just... hung out, drank, belched, watched and played sports. Made fun of Uncle Jackson behind his back.” Another laugh as memories flooded Andrew’s clear gaze.

“All those years ago, when I was born, you had a little girl. You must have had so many dreams, expectations, things you wanted to do with your little girl. And then that girl told you she was a boy and… your world turned upside down.” Andrew swallowed, looking at the ground now. “I know how hard it was for you to understand… And I’m so sorry I didn’t realize that back then. I was so wrapped up in my own confusion… I didn’t realize that it was everyone who was dealing with my identity too, not just me.”

This time, it was Ivan’s turn to support his brother by reaching out to him. “But you were such a fucking champ, dad.” Andrew continued, his eyes streaming. “You took some time but when you came around to the idea, boy did you come around. I know why no one bullied me at school when I came out, it was because you terrorised them… mostly via threats of Mom but you did. And… when I got to college I realized how lucky I was. How much you loved and accepted me and I-“ The boy’s breath caught, his words unable to form as he cried. Both Azalea and Ivan reached to envelope him in their arms until he was ready to continue.

“You were the bravest person in the world… and you taught me to be brave. To not care about what people think and… to never throw a game, except for a pretty girl.” Despite the occasion, a small laugh erupted from all three of them. “But mostly you helped me see that, boy or girl, gay or straight, I’m still your child. And nothing will ever mean more to me than having you as my dad.”

Andrew stepped back, unable to say a farewell but determined that he would at least say what he’d come to say.

Finally, it was Azalea’s turn.

The brunette stepped forward and knelt in front of the tree. Reaching out, she touched what looked like the wood of the bark and it almost melted way, revealing a carved-out heart with her and Jake’s initials on it. The stunt had been so juvenile on the Auror’s part, she had had to hide it for fear of two teenaged sons at home who would go “ewwww gross” if they saw it. Jake on the other hand hadn’t been sorry at all.

“Hi you,” she spoke softly, running her fingers over the rough lines of the heart. “I know you can hear me… so I’ll talk.” Her voice dropped an octave lower, making both the boys look at her worriedly.

“We’re all going to be okay,” Azalea reassured her husband. “You made sure of that… You made sure we were all strong, and independent, and so very loved.”

“Ive, Mom said-“

“Shh!”

“You held us together, in good times and bad. You are the only reason I feel like I belong in this world. When you found me, I was lost. You found me; you made sure I understood I had a purpose. The purpose for my existence was to be with you Jake. It was to love you with everything I had, to have our children and to watch them grow into such fantastic adults. You were my prurpose and without you… I don’t have one anymore.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she spoke to the man who had been, would always be, her entire world. “People say perfection doesn’t exist. But you are my perfect. And wherever you are, you will always be my perfect. I know we’ll see each other again someday, because we’ve always known… the world doesn’t make sense without you and me together…” The woman reached up to wipe the tear carefully, clearing her throat softly in the process.

“Thank you… for making me the happiest person to ever live. For making me your friend, your soul mate, the mother of your children, and finally, your wife. Thank you for making me always feel… needed.”

She lapsed into silence, kneeling there for a few minutes longer until both boys reached for her. Unbeknownst to them, she whispered quietly, one final thing.

“I’ll see you soon, Jake.”

Together, the trio made their way back into the house, back into the kitchen and back into the shade. More tears would follow, and more drinks, and more memories. More of all the things they had wanted to say in the past year. Just more before, slowly, everyone left the house. More logistical arrangements before Ivan took a Clement plane back to France tomorrow. More jokes and teasing before Andrew flew back to his girlfriend’s expedition site the day after. More hugs and warmth before Azalea locked up the house in a few weeks’ time to return to Hogwarts.

And just more to fill in the gaps in their lives left behind by the man who was smiling down on them from somewhere up above.

________________________________________________

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Azalea Murray
Head of Slytherin
Head of Slytherin
Azalea Murray


Posts : 664
Birthday : 1993-08-13
Join date : 2018-01-11
Location : Hogwarts or Surrey mostly
Job/hobbies : Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts

Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022 - Page 4 Empty
PostSubject: Re: Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022   Azalea's NaNoWriMo - 2022 - Page 4 EmptySat Oct 14, 2023 12:50 pm

Chapter Thirty Three
Epilogue
A Different After

“Headmistress, I must insist-“

“But Professor Harrington, I already promised the children- “

“Is this a bad time, Professor? Only, Peeves has flooded the third-floor corridor again.”

The chorus of voices vying for Azalea’s attention on the first day of term hadn’t changed. Not from the last year or the ten years before that. They had no regard for the fact that the Headmistress had only been back at her job for a week. And even that was just settling in. Today, the first of September, was just as much her first real day back as it was theirs.

As it would be for the students.

As it had always been for so long, she could barely remember a time before that.

When she had decided to return for the new year at Hogwarts, a sliver of doubt had remained. One Victoria and picked up on when Azalea had informed the younger woman of her decision. The doubt had stayed all through her first week back. But through Adelaide’s cold handover of the administration duties, through her personal assistant, Clara Goldstein arriving a few days early to set up the office and through moving all her things into her usual Potions’ Mistress quarters in the dungeons, she had wondered what the castle would look like without Jake. Would it be completely different now that she was completely different? Would it be the same and if so, what would that say about her?

But the castle hadn’t been without Jake. His presence was everywhere within the stone walls. From photographs of his time as a professor to infamous and impartial Quidditch referee to mentor to guide to saviour. Every classroom, every hallway, every corridor was filled with his essence. After their home, this was the place he had enjoyed being most present in and that showed.

Especially in her office. Her empty desk testified to his antics on the wooden surface enough times that even the portraits no longer blushed. If there was a place anywhere on earth she could have been closer to her husband other than within their home, it was here at this school.

It felt as if Jake was welcoming her back to their joined workplace with open arms. And still, the doubt had lingered.

Until right this very moment.

The way the role of her duties had absorbed her so seamlessly back, it could have been any of the dozens of start-of-term days she had experienced as Headmistress. Utter chaos behind the scenes as professors argued like little children while actual little children arrived full of nerves and excitement. All doubt vanished from her mind as Azalea observed the squabbling due with her usual calm smile. Adorned in her traditional little black dress to welcome the new students and portray neutrality, the witch tucked her single silver dyed strand of hair behind an ear before passing down her verdict.

“Amanda, it doesn’t matter what you promised the kids. Nikolai booked the spot by the lake for the first week ahead of time, so his students get the slot.”

“But-“ the elderly Charms Professor protested even as the Care of Magical Creatures Instructor nodded a polite thank you. One that may have been given too soon.

“But perhaps Professor Kessler would consider a joined sessions to accommodate all the students?”

“I would most certainly-“

“Oh come on, Nikolai, pleeeeeeaseeeeee.” The couple left her presence, Amanda’s beseeching tones overpowering the man’s more muted demeanour. Azalea now turned to the caretaker.

“Come on, Mr. Smith, get the house elves to clean it up, I don’t see why I need to be told of this.”

“Very good, Headmistress,” the skeletal man disappeared, leaving Azalea alone in the Great Hall.

The area looked more or less ready for the students who would be arriving in just over an hour. The four house tables were set as they’d always been. The hundreds of candles lit and floating in the air underneath the enchanted sky ceiling. The staff table was gleaming and resplendent, her own gold throne like chair standing out among the others at the centre. When she had first assumed the role, Azalea had thought the chair too ostentatious. A few years later, she had managed to make the role hers and sat on it like she belonged there.

Surveying her little kingdom in her little castle. Not a Clement, but a miniature queen in her own right.

The position of Défense Instructor had not been filled. Through a combination of luck and perhaps some subtle influence, the school board had decided to go through a rota of guest lecturers for the year before they could look at a permanent replacement for Professor Newbury but Adelaide had made it clear that the arrangement could extend far beyond this year if necessary.

Almost as if the powers that be were telling her to take all the time she needed.

For now, the chair to her right would be empty. Or empty to the world anyway. To her, there would always be someone sitting beside her, watching over her.

Slowly, Azalea walked towards the Headmistress’ tower. Giving the password at the bottom, she ascended the steps up to her office. Clara had made her own cubicle outside the round, opulent space to mimic a small reception area. It worked because it offered Azalea her privacy as well as filtered any unwanted appointments.

“Good evening, Professor,” Clara greeted the older woman as she walked in. “These flowers arrived for you earlier.” The former Ravenclaw pointed to a bouquet of greens, pinks, oranges, blues and yellows arranged in a more beautiful way than they had any right to be. A bloom of lavender stemmed leaves in the middle held an unmarked, cream coloured envelope.

“Those aren’t flowers,” Azalea corrected her assistant, reaching for the envelope. The note it contained within was also unmarked, wishing her good luck on her first day back and asking her if she would be available for dinner this weekend as the sender would be in Scotland. “They’re weeds.”

“Weeds?” the young woman looked up from her desk in surprise. “Well, they’re the prettiest weeds I’ve ever seen.”

“They’re native to a very specific biome in France,” the brunette explained cryptically, taking the note into her office, and closing the door.

Azalea settled into her chair, surrounded by all the familiar portraits who had watched her grow and thrive over the past two decades. It felt like being surrounded by friends who only wished her well.

Taking out her stationary, she began to write in her neat curly script, accepting the invitation to dinner.

And perhaps something more.


1,111 words

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