Chapter Text
Harry loved summers.
He loved to wake up with the early sun rays (as he heard the first bird songs) and go swimming into the nearest river at the dawn. He loved how in every place the horses halted at, people on main streets or village squares stood in awe as he performed his ropedancing and juggling skills. He loved the warm nights and the fact that he could sleep under the sky if he wanted to, not thronging in the brooding carriage with his whole family. And the best nights were the ones with fires and music. Like today's one.
Summers simply made him feel alive. And he couldn't get enough of that.
...
His heart fell full as he pulled Aranka closer into a whirl of chardash played on violin and started to spin them around, drops of sweat glistening on both of their foreheads in no time. She tightened her grip on his shoulders as she understood his intention, but she knew she won't be able to stop him anyway, so she just let Harry do several swift turns and then stepped on his foot to pull away and retrieve her vision of non-spinning world again when it was too much, before she started to laugh.
That was also why he took her dancing. Because she was not like the other girls who wouldn't let him go no matter what. Unlike them, she had also never offered him to lay with her on a night like this. Which was... refreshing.
He smiled heartily, adoring her kind of glee as she threw her head back and her long dark hair nearly reached the ground. He doubted there was something more beautiful than moments like this.
Suddenly, he spotted his sister's stiff pose over the flames. She was sitting alone on the other side of the fire, apparently going through a vision as she was staring into flames without blinking for too long.
He knew that sometimes, those presages she saw were hard on her. It was mostly bad things, after all.
She never whimpered about it, but it put her at ease quicker if there was someone with her after she woke up. So he squeezed Aranka's hand as to say thank you and made his way to Gemma to sit by her side.
Grasping her palm in his gently, he waited for her to come back from whenever she wandered from time to time. He noticed tears glistening on her cheeks. And as she finally exhaled the breath she held for the whole time, he whispered: "Gemma? What was it? What did you see?"
Gemma looked at him with an impenetrable expression. She remained silent as if there was a chance Harry could stop asking. She probably hasn't realized about the dampness on her face yet.
But Harry was positive she just saw something. Something sad. It was the way she furrowed her brow in attempt to not let her helplessness show that gave her away.
"Tell me."
She petted his cheek, as if she wanted to distract him and forget. "Future is not set in stone, brother. You know that, right?"
He hated when she did this. "Please. It was about me, wasn't it?"
She bit her lip thoughtfully. "You don't have to know, ok?"
"But I want to!" He squeezed her wrist.
Due to wind, she finally noticed the tears and wiped them off, closing her eyes defeatedly before she looked back at Harry. "Just tell me this. If you could choose, would you rather live through something wonderful - but shortly and for it to end up bad, or have a long, happy life - only never really reaching the wonder?"
Harry made a confused face at first. But then, he said (as if he didn't even have to think about it): "The first option! Wonders are precious. They are worthy of sacrifice."
Gemma smiled sadly, reflections of flames dancing in her glassy eyes. "Hm. Why did I even ask?"
She swallowed the words about how it was not very wise to choose that possibility if one did not know about what was at stake.