"Mum, I want the truth about my real parents," I say.

Mum was in the music room, reading a book on one of the velvet love couches. She looked up from her book in shock, then a frown formed on her face.

"I don't think you are ready for it," she says swiftly.

"What? Why not? I've waited a year, and in all fairness, you and Dad both lied to me my whole life," I say back.

"Yes, and I think you should wait some more," she sits up straighter in her seat.

"That's not fair," I raise my voice. Why can't she just tell me the truth for once?

"Fair?" She gets up, pointing at me. "You don't know what you're talking about," her voice matches mine.

"What's going on here?" Dad steps in and closes the sliding doors behind him, but I ignore him.

"Why won't you just tell me?" I yell at her. I've never yelled at my parents. I've respected them, did everything they told me to, no questions asked.

"Don't yell at your mother," Dad says, butting in again.

"You're both being selfish," I yell at him.

"Oh, Celeste thinks I'm being selfish? You're the one who stormed in here, thinking you can talk to me like you own this place. You're the one who didn't even write a letter once. Adrian and Adel defended you, saying you were busy with something, but we know you just didn't want to, and I gave you space. I raised you. I was there every step of the way, and you call me selfish? You didn't write to me—fine, I gave you space. You don't tell me about Miles—fine, you're young. You come home all gloomy and sad—fine, you're a teen, you can have feelings. But it stops here. You have no right to question me on what I think is best for you," Mum says. She sits back down, running her hands through her soft hair.

My eyes water at her words a little. Dad moves to sit next to her, rubbing her back as she lets out a soft sigh, wiping her eyes. She was right. I didn't write to her. I came home with a little attitude. I was the one who made things about me.

I move closer to her, dropping to my knees and hugging her legs as I sob like a little kid.

"I'm so sorry. I've been so caught up in my head that I didn't think about anyone else's feelings," I cry out.

She moves to sit next to me on the floor, hugging me like a mother would her child after a nightmare. I sob into her shoulder even more as she runs her hand up and down my back.

Her words repeat in my head, and it hits me—she didn't call me by my name. Well, she did, but not Ari or Ariana. She called me Celeste, my middle name. She holds me as I cry like a baby to her.

Why am I crying? I was the one to blame. Her words hurt, sure, but not enough to make me cry.

"Ari, when we first took you in, your parents didn't want you to know anything. They even made us do an Unbreakable Vow," Dad says from his seat.

I've read about Unbreakable Vows—a powerful, binding magical contract between two people, where if either one breaks the terms of the vow, they will instantly die. It requires a third party to witness and seal the vow, making it essentially impossible to break due to its deadly consequences. It is considered dark magic due to its extreme and irreversible nature.

"But the vow was broken not long after," Mum whispers, as if she were stepping on eggshells.

I was confused. If someone broke it, that meant death. The only other way to break it would be if one person were to die.

"I don't understand," I say, wiping my face.

"We shouldn't say any more," Dad says, letting out a shaky breath.

I sigh, leaning into Mum even more. If they didn't want me to know, it was probably for a good reason, right?

"Miss Pucey, Mr. Nott, and Mr. Berkshire a-are here to see you," Penny, our house elf, appears in front of us. "Oh, Penny is s-sorry! Penny didn't know you were ta-talking!" She begins hitting her head with her hands.

"It's alright, Penny, no need for that," I say, grabbing her small hands to stop her.

She quickly snaps her fingers and leaves.

"I'm gonna go," I say to Mum and Dad. I place a kiss on Mum's cheek before leaving the music room, sliding the doors closed behind me.

At the front door, I see Theo leaning on it and Enzo standing to the side.

"Hey, gorgeous," Theo wraps his arm around me before getting shoved by Enzo so he can also hug me.

"Don't hog her, Nott," Enzo says as he hugs me, nearly crushing all my bones.

"Oh, okay, that's enough," I say, gently patting his back. He puts me down, and they both make their way inside the house into the living room.

"So, what are you both doing here?" I ask as Theo and Enzo sit on the couch. I lay my head on Theo's lap and kick my feet up onto Enzo's lap.

"Have you been crying?" Theo asks, shoving his face in mine.

I punch his face away.

"Yeah, but it's okay. Don't worry," I shrug it off, not wanting them to get all protective.

"No, what's wrong, Ari?" Enzo asks, shaking my leg a little.

"It's nothing, really. I just asked my mum who my real parents are, and she said that she can't tell me," I say.

"She can't or she won't?" Theo raises an eyebrow.

"Theo, don't push it, man," Enzo says, giving Theo the side-eye.

"I mean, we can look at the old yearbooks and see who you kinda look like," Theo suggests.

"Yeah, but we don't even know what year they went to school, let alone if they even went to Hogwarts," Enzo points out, shutting down Theo's idea.

"But we could try," I say, sitting up, getting off the couch, and running back to the music room.

"Hey, where are you going?" Theo calls out, jumping over the couch to follow me.

I slide open the doors to the music room. Mum and Dad are inside, and I run my hands over the bookshelf.

Dad showed me a few pictures from when he was in school—some of his old friends, but mostly him and Mum. I find the yearbook from my dad's seventh year and pull it out.

"What are you doing?" Enzo asks, peeking over my shoulder.

"Looking at my previous year's book to see if maybe they were good friends or something," I say, sitting on the piano stool.

Theo leans on the piano. I flip the pages all the way to the end, to the Slytherin section, and find the letter P.

"Damn, Adrian looks exactly like him," Theo says, pointing at my dad's picture.

"Sempre quelli onorati," Theo reads out loud. "Family motto?" He glances at the inscription beneath the photo.

"Yup. 'Always the honored ones,'" I reply. I flip the page, revealing a picture of my dad with his Quidditch team. Some of the players look familiar—faces I've seen in other photos or at events over the years.

"This one—you kind of look like him," Enzo points at a boy with wavy hair, sharp features, and dark eyes, even darker than mine. Or maybe it's just the picture. The image moves slightly as an older man—probably a professor—tells them to look at the camera. Dad stands beside the boy, his arm slung around him. Something about him feels strangely familiar, like I've seen him before. Maybe in a dream.

"You think?" I murmur. Luckily, the picture includes names beneath the players. I scan the list and find the boy labeled under 'B': Regulus Black, Sixth-Year Student.

"Black, like as in Sirius Black?" Theo snatches the book from my hands.

The Blacks. One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Their line ended when their eldest son, Sirius Black, allegedly murdered the Potter family. Their youngest son, Regulus Black, died at eighteen while working under the Dark Lord. When I was younger, I took it upon myself to memorize everything about the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Draco, Theo, and Daphne's families were part of it. It was something to be proud of—a sign of legacy, of a bloodline kept pure for centuries.

"I don't think I look that much like him," I say. There are probably plenty of other people I resemble.

"What? You don't want to be part of them?" Enzo asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean... they're all dead."

"Not Sirius. He escaped Azkaban in our third year, remember?" Theo reminds me.

"I'm pretty sure someone would've mentioned it if one of the Black sons had a kid." I shake my head. The idea is ridiculous.

"Yeah, but then it wouldn't be a secret," Theo says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why don't we check out the Black home later this summer?" Enzo suggests.

"What for? Because we found one person I kinda look like, and now you guys think Regulus Black might be my father?" I scoff. It sounds like the dumbest theory ever.

"Well, yeah," Enzo says.

"Come on. What's there to lose, huh?" Theo nudges me, grinning.

"Enzo, you thought this was a stupid idea," I point out.

"I still do. But you never know unless you try." He places a hand on my shoulder.

I sigh. "Fine. But we'll need a cover story. My parents won't let me go if they knew why."

"Hmm, true. We'll tell them we're going to London to hang out or something," Theo suggests.

"Where exactly is the Black home?" Enzo asks.

"London, I think." Part of learning about the Sacred Twenty-Eight was remembering where they came from—like how the Malfoys lived in the English countryside, and Theo's family lived in London.

"Great." Theo moves to sit beside me, turning toward the piano. He opens the lid, revealing the black and white keys. "Would you like to play, my lady?"

"I would be delighted, kind sir." I swing my legs to the other side of the bench. Our hands hover over the keys.

"What would you like us to play, Sir Enzo?" I ask dramatically.

"Um, I—"

"Ave Maria," my mother's voice cuts in. She steps into the room, Penny trailing behind her with a tray of tea. She takes a seat on the velvet couch. Ave Maria—one of her favorite songs.

"Yes, ma'am," Theo says with a smirk.

I've been playing the piano since I was five. Theo had seen me playing in the common room in our first year and asked me to teach him. Ever since, we've played together. Our fingers dance over the keys—fluid, steady, never too fast or too slow. Just the way my mother likes it.

"I'm the only one in the family who plays," I say softly. "Adel plays violin. Adrian says he doesn't have the patience for something this boring."

"Lorenzo, do you play anything?" Mum asks, glancing at Enzo.

"I don't, Mrs. Pucey. Just chess." He sits straighter under her gaze.

"Then play with me." She waves her wand, levitating the chessboard onto the small coffee table in front of her.

By the time Ave Maria ends, we've already moved into another melody.

"You're awfully good. Who taught you?" Mum asks as she studies the board. It's rare for her to give compliments—she's a brilliant chess player, both magical and Muggle.

"My mother, when I was little. She's good," Enzo says.

"Looks like I'll have to meet her."

"Oh, look at that—you beat me," Enzo sighs, feigning disappointment.

"Looks like it." Mum smiles proudly. "Again."

Minutes pass. Song after song after song. Theo stops playing first, leaving me on my own. I keep going until my fingers go numb, but I don't care. Enzo manages to beat Mum a few times. Adel comes in to ask her something, but instead, Mum has her bring her violin. Together, we play Clair de Lune—the only song we both know.

By the time the sun starts setting, Theo and Enzo have gone, and Adel has retreated to her room.

It's just me and my mother now.

No words.

Just the music.

As my fingers glide over the keys, she finally speaks. "So, do you really like Miles?"

I hesitate for just a second, but then I nod. "Yeah, I do. He even asked me to the Yule Ball in front of the Great Hall." A small smile tugs at my lips. "On the train ride back, he said he was going to take me on all these picnic dates... and stargazing."

Mum hums, watching me carefully. "You sound like me when I was younger. When I was in love with your father."

I glance at her, searching for something in her expression—nostalgia, maybe. Something I can hold on to. "You really loved him?"

Her smile softens, and I catch a hint of something deeper. "More than anything."

I don't know what to say to that.

So I just keep playing, letting the notes fill the silence. But Mum doesn't stop. She watches me for a moment before speaking again.

"So, what is it about Miles that you like the most?" she asks, her voice gentle but curious.

I pause, fingers still on the keys. What do I like most about him? I think for a moment before answering. "Everything," I say, my voice quieter this time. "The way he understands me... how he just gets me, even when I'm not saying anything. And how he makes me feel, like I'm... I don't know, like I matter to him."

I can't help but smile to myself, but I quickly turn my gaze away, avoiding her watchful eyes.

She leans back in her seat, a thoughtful expression on her face. "He sounds like a keeper, then."

I smile again, but this time it's a little nervous. "Yeah, hope he is."

Of course, I don't tell her about the endless makeout sessions with Miles. Some things don't need to be said. No one needs to know that.

Mum tilts her head, watching me with a knowing look, though she doesn't press. "I'm glad you've found someone who makes you happy."

I nod, my fingers finding the next set of keys. "Me too."

The room is filled with nothing but the soft echo of the piano keys, but my mother's voice breaks the silence again.

"Ariana," she says, more firmly this time, "Stop playing for a minute and come here."

I pause, but she doesn't wait for me to respond. She pats the space beside her on the couch.

Reluctantly, I stand, stretching my stiff fingers. I walk over and sit beside her. She gestures for me to lie down, so I do, shifting until my head rests on her lap. Her hands come to rest gently on my black hair, her fingers combing through the strands as she looks down at me.

"Tell me everything," she says softly, her tone gentle but insistent.

I sigh, trying to organize my thoughts as her fingers play with my hair. Her touch is soothing, grounding, and somehow it makes it easier to talk.

I hesitate for a second, gathering my words. "Well... Miles, sometimes he helps me with homework, you know, when I'm struggling with something. He's patient, way more patient than I am with myself."

Mum hums in acknowledgment but doesn't say anything, so I continue.

"And... when I'm with him, it's like I'm the only person in the world. Like he only sees me, and nothing else matters. It's... kind of like how the whole world stops when we're together. It's just us."

I feel the weight of the words as they leave my mouth, and a soft blush creeps onto my face.

Mum smiles softly, her fingers brushing through my hair. "Sounds like he's really special to you."

I nod, feeling a warmth spread through me at the thought of him. "He is."

She pauses for a moment, thinking, her fingers still gently massaging my scalp. "Ariana..." She trails off, as if deciding what to say next. "Just remember—love's a lot like music. It can be beautiful, and sometimes it's all you want to hear, but you have to make sure you don't lose yourself in it. It's important to still know who you are."

I nod, a little surprised by how wise her words sound, especially coming from her. "I know, Mum," I whisper, though deep down, I'm already sure that Miles wouldn't ever make me lose myself.

I close my eyes, letting her fingers soothe me, feeling like maybe everything is starting to make sense.

Hey.... so like this one doesn't have mattheo in it...but like yeah... 

Also who as mommy issese?...🙋‍♀️

-Love your truly V