Reprise to a Ballad “One more semester,” Serapes had promised. One more he would be still and let himself heal. One more he would wait and pray and believe. One more he would not push himself too hard. One more before he would return to his position in Europe.
That semester had been promised to her over the summer, and autumn, then winter, had taken its place. Time marched on, the weather adjusting accordingly, and now that single semester more had passed them. Sophie did her best to ignore his upcoming departure over break, opting to laugh and smile and enjoy his presence rather than agonize over his exit. But now that was gone, too. Hogwarts classes would be resuming; Serapes had to go.
She found him staring out the window, into the world he would soon be facing. “So this is it,” she commented idly, approaching from behind. Serapes turned over his shoulder, having not heard her footsteps. His motion revealed his cane to her, the damned thing a tangible reminder of everything she stood to lose. “You’re really sure about this.”
“Yes,” he replied, his deep voice absolute. Sophie exhaled loudly, turning away from him slightly, her thin arms defensively coiling into one another across her chest. “I am done stalling,” Serapes explained. “I gave you what you asked, and now it is time I return to work.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Sophie with a weak smile and a laugh to match. “I just wish you would stay. It’s been… it’s been really nice having you around. I mean, the boys just love you. And I think Ryan does too.” Serapes himself had always been kind to her husband, albeit a bit weary and even now slightly protective; as almost the only living connection left to Sara, Sophie was his whole world. “As for me… well, you know I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
Serapes did not look at her, his gaze locked on something in the distance. What, she could not say, as it was fairly dark out. He had to board the train in England quite early, which meant late by their timezone. Night was solidly upon them still. (Fortunately, he’d said goodbye--as much as they could understand--to the boys before their bedtime, but there would be tears in the morning.)
However, he did reach his long, bony arm out and encompass her shoulders, lightly tugging her into him. In a moment of weakness, she rested her head on him. She wasn’t a crier, honestly, but she felt near tears. “I wish you would say,” she said again. “What if you need me and I’m not there? How do I know you won’t have a setback or-”
“Faith,” he interrupted. Sophie blinked up at him, and slowly he lowered his head to stare back. “That… is faith... is it not? And you have to have some.... or else you won’t get... anywhere. Right?” Serapes gave a coy smile, acutely aware, as she was, that he was giving back her own words, like a library book he had borrowed and read a thousand times, soaking it in until its fibers became his own.The physical book, like the words, returned to their rightful owner, but the message stayed forever.
Sophie smiled back more confidently. Maybe she had managed to teach him something. The wall clock gave a mighty click, and, seeing the time, she picked up Serapes’s bags and handed them to him. He slung one with a long strap over his shoulder, his free hand taking on the briefcase and his other arm, hand occupied by his cane, accepting the third. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I always do.” He leaned down his head down slightly, and she rose to her tiptoes to meet him and kiss his cheek. Serapes headed to the door, calling back over his shoulder, “Have a pleasant semester.”
“You too,” she answered, tone matched as well as she could, the natural bubbliness in her tone a harsh contrast to the natural apathy in his. He closed the door behind him, noting this with mild amusement. Anything he gave her, she always returned, magnified a thousand fold. Just like her mother, he thought to himself, the memory bringing a brief, somber smile to his face. You’d be so proud of your girl, Sara. I certainly am.