Early Sunday morning, 23 August 1942, in Priscilla Chattox-Kyteler's house in Londinium...

[balm_of_gilead]

Addie Kyteler woke up comparatively easily on Sunday. For the first time in several weeks, her bedtime meditation ritual had not been difficult and she had not awakened in the middle of the night. It was easier to say her morning prayers after a good night’s sleep, she found: easier to feel true thankfulness for a new day.

Rising, she put on a dressing gown over her shift and stuck a few pins in her hair-just enough to hold it away from her face-and went downstairs. She could hear her mother’s voice as she approached the breakfast room, laughing. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in a very long time, that laughter; it was the way she had laughed with Addie’s father. But the source of the laughter could only be Marlie Watkins; Arianwen and Susie would never be awake so early, unless they had already left for an early shift at St Mungo’s, and then, they would not have been laughing.

“Good morning,” said Addie to her mother as she opened the door and saw her mother. She took another step into the breakfast area, and then she froze in her tracks. Amadeo Luna was sitting at the table across from her mother, dressed in his usual black, except that his collar was open. The two of them were as close as they could possibly be while seated across from each other, their heads close enough to whisper if they had wanted to.

“Good morning,” said Priscilla sharply, startled-she had looked in on Addie an hour or so ago and found her fast asleep, and she had been content to let her daughter, who had been so restless lately, stay abed.

Addie flushed; her hand flew up to her mouth in shock. “Mr Luna! I’m…I’m sorry,” she stammered, looking down at her night-dress and putting her other hand to the loose bundle of hair at the nape of her neck. “I didn’t expect…I’m sorry to interrupt!” She turned to leave the room.

“It’s all right, dear,” said Priscilla, who thought it obvious that Amadeo would take no more interest in Addie’s night-clothes than Ned or Hadrian would have done.

Amadeo blushed as well, more in response to Addie’s embarrassment than his own, because he hadn’t actually noticed what she was wearing. “No, no, no, it’s all right, I didn’t mean for you to be uncomfortable,” he said quickly, but Addie was already well out of earshot and halfway upstairs.

“It’s all right, dear,” said Priscilla, taking his hand in her own and kissing first the back and then the fingertips. “She just went up to get dressed and put up her hair. You are after all an eligible young gentleman to whom she is not related.”

“Oh,” said Amadeo nervously, and then Priscilla kissed his palm, which made him flush from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. He was just beginning to be dimly aware that they hadn’t actually slept more than an hour or two, and his head was swimming a little. But Priscilla had been no more inclined to stop what they were doing than he had, and there were so many intriguing variations on the theme.

“Don’t worry about it, she’s just being proper,” Priscilla replied. “Somebody’s got to be.” She stroked his leg with her instep under the table, and Amadeo laughed.

“I never had any idea that you…that you would want this,” he finally said, his face nearly purple, and Priscilla just laughed.

“How could I not, Amadeo?” she murmured, tangling her fingers in his.

For that he had no answer but a smile. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long time, the toast and tea all but forgotten.

Addie reappeared at the doorway properly dressed for morning services and still rather red, both from embarrassment and from running up and down the stairs. Her hair was pinned back almost viciously; she had had to repeat the charm several times to get it to hold. “Good morning, Mr Luna. I’m sorry, I was not…expecting company,” she said with forced calmness before taking a seat at the far end of the table from Luna and her mother. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this. Her mother surely had the right, if her father was going to live with Mrs Scalara, but…she had been so sure it couldn’t happen. She hated the idea that Hadrian was going to be right.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Priscilla said mildly. “You were so sound asleep when I looked in on you before.”

“I slept very soundly,” Addie told her, forcing a smile. She waited for the elf to bring her some toast before asking: “What time is it? I must have slept in a little.”

“I’m not sure,” said Priscilla, glancing around for a clock. “Nine, nine-thirty?”

Amadeo nodded.

“Oh,” said Addie politely. “I did sleep in. Are you joining us for church, Mr Luna?”

“You are welcome to,” said Priscilla, who was a little chagrined that she had forgot about that…and did not particularly want to go.

Amadeo smiled at Priscilla. “Thank you, I should like that very much,” he replied. “Late-morning services are very nice, I find.”

“Very well, then.” Priscilla blushed. “I suppose I shall have to go up and get ready soon, then.” She didn’t know what to do. She was a bit nervous about leaving her daughter alone with Amadeo. They had met before, of course, but there was something about Addie’s expression that she did not quite like; it reminded her that Addie and Hadrian, for all their differences, were still twins and had a great deal more in common than they liked to let on.

“Have you had, um, tea?” Addie asked, scrambling for conversation. “Mr Luna?”

Priscilla laughed softly. “State secrets,” she mused under her breath.

That made Amadeo chuckle. “Not this tea, not at all,” he murmured back, then looked up at Addie with a smile. “I have, but I’ll take another cup, thank you.”

Addie could make out only a little of what they said to each other, and it didn’t make any sense. She doubted she wanted to know anyway. “Certainly,” she said with a smile, and called for the elf to bring another two cups, one for her and one for their guest.

Priscilla smiled at her. “Did you have a good night’s sleep then?” She had realised at about three in the morning that they had not put up any wards, even Silencio, and she wondered if that was why Addie had slept in so uncharacteristically late.

Addie was a bit hurt; hadn’t her mother been listening to a word she’d said? “Um, yes, thanks,” she replied. “The meditations are getting easier, you were right. I thought I’d never get better at it.”

“I’m glad, dear,” Priscilla said softly. “I know you slept soundly this morning, but I was momentarily afraid that it might have been because you’d been awakened late at night.”

Amadeo nearly choked on his tea, because Priscilla had on several occasions been rather vocal in her appreciation of his efforts. He hadn’t even considered that anyone else in the house might hear them!

“I didn’t hear a thing last night,” said Addie, blushing furiously and looking away into the corner of the room. “I didn’t even wake up when Susie got home!” she added brightly.

“Well, good,” said Priscilla knowingly. “I know how noisy she can be, coming in, and your father and I have both spoken to her about it.”

Amadeo wondered how red, exactly, one’s cheeks could get before they exploded, or perhaps started to bleed, because he was certain he was getting close to one of those eventualities. Priscilla’s frankness, as much as he loved it, had the capacity to mortify him into next week upon occasion.

Addie was hardly doing any better, although she was so lost in her own embarrassment she didn’t notice anyone else’s. She was very glad when the tea arrived. “Milk, Mr Luna?” she asked politely.

“Er…yes, thank you,” said Amadeo, successfully managing not to stammer and gape like a fish out of water.

“And sugar, yes, dear?” Priscilla pushed the sugar bowl toward Amadeo first, since Addie was sitting at the far end of the table.

“Sugar, thank you. After you,” Addie said to Amadeo.

Amadeo smiled at Priscilla and stirred in a heaping spoonful, then slid it down to Addie, not making eye-contact, his face still quite red.

“Addie,” Priscilla said quietly, glancing at the post which she had already read, “do you have any plans for this evening?”

“No,” Addie said, carefully pouring a level teaspoonful of sugar into her own cup and taking a sip. “I wanted to finish testing a potion recipe, but we don’t have dragon-tail infusion stocked.” She had no idea where this was going, and she didn’t think she would like it.

“I think I can get you some of that,” said Priscilla, “but not until tomorrow. I was thinking that I’d ask Susannah to take you and Marlie and Arianwen out for the evening, since it’s the next to last weekend before you all go out to school, and there’s that ball next Saturday. I have some business to discuss with your father, if he is amenable.”

Amadeo blanched, the uncharacteristic redness draining at once from his face. Surely she was not going to tell Ned Kyteler that she had slept with him! It had to be something else. Something to do with the children.

“All right,” said Addie slowly. She hoped that this wouldn’t be another discussion that was going to rip their lives apart, but she supposed it had to be, if Amadeo was her mother’s lover now. “Isn’t Arianwen going up to Lady Malfoy’s today? Will…when will she be home?”

“I don’t know,” said Priscilla, “but I’m having Hunter take her, and if they’re not back by suppertime, then your father won’t be, either, since I am sure that his companion has to go, given her past relationship to the Zabinis.”

Amadeo wondered briefly if he ought to go himself, but decided that he would have been told if his presence were expected. Unless the notice was in the stack of owls beneath the urgent one he had answered last night, and the one from Priscilla. But he was sure he would have noticed an owl from Kyteler, or one with the Malfoy crest on it.

“Well, I would enjoy that, if Susie is willing,” Addie said, with some genuine enthusiasm. She had been hurt to be left out of their activities all summer, even though she knew that it was all drinking and gambling and other things she wouldn’t have cared to participate in.

“I’m sure she will be willing,” said Priscilla pleasantly. She would make sure that Susie was willing. “You haven’t met her beau yet, have you? Well, you can tell me what you think.”

“Arianwen likes him,” said Addie. “I know that. And so does Marlie.” Arianwen was a Slytherin, but Marlie was a Hufflepuff like Emmy Peachtree, and they all seemed to be good judges of character.

“Arianwen likes almost everyone,” said Priscilla fondly; she thought Arianwen was amazingly empathic, especially considering her background, and that it would serve her well as a Healer. “I had just hoped that you girls wouldn’t marry soldiers.”

Addie only nodded. She couldn’t avoid glancing at Amadeo. He was nothing like her father, and she could hear the judgement of her father in her mother’s voice-but wasn’t he a soldier, too, of sorts?

“Soldiers don’t soldier forever. They leave that grey land eventually,” Amadeo said gently, shrugging a little. He couldn’t imagine that even Ned Kyteler would choose to live the life he led indefinitely.

“Some do, some don’t,” said Priscilla with a shrug. “I think some of them like it. But that’s another subject for another day.” She kissed his cheek. “I need to go upstairs and dress for church,” she said, rising to do so.

Amadeo nodded and rose. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Addie, but she seemed to need some time to make her own sort of sense out of all this, and frankly, so did he. “I’ll wait for you in the library…” He didn’t know quite what to call her in front of her daughter; ‘Doctora’ seemed too formal, and he was not about to call her ‘Mrs Kyteler’.

“I’d better hurry and finish eating,” Addie said quickly. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Is half an hour all right Mum?”

“It had better be,” said Priscilla, leaning over to kiss her cheek as she left, “the service won’t wait for us.”

finaldefense, quam_tristis and balm_of_gilead