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A Magic Beyond All We Do Here	By : NormanCharles Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 4225 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Okay, okay. I'm NOT JK Rowlings, I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from writing these stories, I do it because it's fun and other people seem to enjoy what I write - the best of whom write review and tell me when I get it right and

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
A Magic Beyond All We Do
Here - Chapter Four

The Project

Mundanes and Muggles and
what constitutes magic, Sinestra and OMC

Charles threw himself into
his work; teaching was the least of it all.� Mentoring, encouraging and making
sure every student he came into contact with was having a good day.� He ate
lunch with his students and attended every play, competition, concert and
recital. He made sure he was there for any who needed a hand with anything.�
Most of the school year had passed and he showed no signs of slowing.� He was
so constantly frenetic that Joseph cornered him in his classroom one day.

�Can you bring it down just
a notch?�

�What?�

�You have way too much
energy; you�re everywhere all the time.� You�re scaring the first graders, for
that matter you�re scaring some of the teachers, hell, you scare me sometimes.�
And Amber. . .�

�What about Amber?�� He
looked around wildly for a moment, until he saw her out on the lawn, playing
with the Corey kids.

�Exactly.�

�I�m sorry?�

�Charles, you�re smothering
her.� Admit it, if you didn�t have her in your line of sight just now you would
have run out of the room to find her.�

He couldn�t deny it; he had
done just that on three separate occasions this week.

�I know, I know.� I just
have this need to be doing something, anything, because if I stop, then I
remember and my whole world comes crashing down.�

�I may have a solution.�

�Okay?�� Charles sounded
skeptical.

�You are most at ease when
you�re playing music.�

�Yeah. . .� and?�

�Remember you told me about
a guitar kit or something like that?�

�Yeah, the Guitar laute,
someone told me it would be better to build one.�

�Okay, so here.�

Joseph handed over the
portfolio he had been carrying.�

�It�s a template and
instructions for building a Guitar laute, slightly modified from a 17^th
century design.�

�It�s in German.�

�So sprechen Sie Deutsche.�

�Nicht zo gut.�

�Even better, study German,
it�ll give you something else on which to expend that boundless energy�

Charles sighed, �I don�t
have a way out of this, do I?�

�Hey, I�m just managing a
resource here.� You have a hobby, an outlet for all of this tension and I get
to keep a great teacher.�

�Anyone ever tell you you�re
a genius?�

�It�s why I get the big
bucks.�

Joseph was right about the
music; the only time he was truly at peace was when he was playing one of his
guitars, especially the old Yamaha classical that he first played for Rose.� It
had the same effect on him that it had on the patients with their physical and
mental scars.� When he played Amber would sit and listen, then inevitably curl
up on the couch or the overstuffed chair and go to sleep.

She had just been lulled to
sleep as Charles played one of Rose�s favorite tunes when she heard her mama�s
voice.� �I�m so sorry little one, I couldn�t stay.� But I am sending you
someone who will love you twice as much as I ever could and you will grow and
learn and be a whole family again, more than family, soul mates.� Remember to
live, remember to love, and remember I will always love you.�

Three nights later the
harried first through third year Dorm Mother asked him to play for her girls,
two of whom had had their birthdays that day and everyone just about �Oh-deed�
on two cakes and assorted sweets and ice cream.� Charles ignored the
hyperactivity and noise (why do little girls love to scream?) and began to
play.� The cacophony died down almost immediately and when he finished the
third song he surveyed his handiwork; where there was once a dozen little
dervishes on a sugar rush there was now a dozen princesses sleeping bonelessly
on the living room furniture and floor.

�Nicely done,� said a voice
that Charles didn�t recognize.�

He looked up from the bodies
strewn over the living room to see a tall dark haired woman in a charcoal grey
skirt and jacket, starched white blouse and what appeared to be a grey garrison
cap.� Except for the lack of insignia or a badge it could have been a uniform.�
Her facial features could almost be described as bird-like, not that that was
bad, she was strikingly beautiful; if pushed for a description Charles would
have to say she was aristocratic, one of the New England �Old Money� types.�
She was carrying a violin case.

�Charles Norwood?� her
accent was British.

�Yes.�

�Oh good, I didn�t miss
you.� �She extended her hand; she was nearly as tall as Charles himself.� He
noticed she was wearing flat shoes.

�Sidra Sinestra.�

�Madame.� He said, taking
the offered hand.

�Miss�

�Sorry, Miss Sinestra, good
to meet you.�

There was an awkward silence
as neither seemed to think of anything to say.� Sidra surveyed the sleeping
children.

�Do you often hire out as
Mr. Sandman?�

He chuckled at this, �no,
this was kind of a spur of the moment thing.�

�I�m going to be tutoring
three of your third graders and I was told to ask you about their schedules.�

�Tutoring what?�

Sidra held up the violin
case.

�I wanted to meet them in an
informal setting so that I could recommend a size.�

�Oh, okay.� Their names
are?�

She told him and he was
pleased to note they were in the dormitory; there was only one small problem.

�They are in this pile of
sleeping beauties; do we really want to wake them just now?�

�Not necessary,� she said.�
�Just point them out to me so I can get the measure of them.�

�Like Mary Poppins?�

�I�m sorry?�

�Mary Poppins, the nanny
from the movie of the same name?� She carried a tape measure in her carpetbag
along with a full length mirror, hat and coat rack and tall standing lamp.� She
would use the tape measure to see how the children in her care would �measure
up,� a bad intentional pun.�

�Sounds like someone I might
know.�

�Okay. . . The three you are
looking for are right here, all together for your convenience.�

�Yes, very well,� she gently
raised the left hand and arm of each of the girls.� �A three-quarter I think,
they are small but they will grow into it in less than a year.�

�You can tell just by
looking at their arms?�

�They�re seven-year-olds,�
she smiled, �of course they�ll grow.�

�Ah, well I have to be
getting back to my own sleeping beauty now, nice to have met you Miss
Sinestra.�

�Sidra, and to my very good
friends, Sid,� She offered her hand again.

�Goodnight Sidra.�

The next day the children
were introduced to �Miss Sid.�� Sidra thought her surname might �put them off,�
thinking it was that of a sinister person.

She was bright and cheerful
and very good with her students, they were thrilled that they could scratch out
a recognizable tune after the first lesson.�

He invited her to the
townhouse for tea, which pleasantly surprised her; she hadn�t found many tea
drinking Americans.� She was pleasantly surprised as she watched him brew it.�
He spooned one teaspoon of loose black tea for each cup, then one for the pot,
poured cold water in the kettle then let it come to a near boil. He poured the
water over the tealeaves and let the tea steep for three minutes before
offering to pour.

�I�m very impressed Mr.
Norwood.�

�Thank you Miss Sinestra do
you take milk, sugar, honey, or lemon?�

�Call me Sid; One sugar
please.�

�You had a good first day
with the girls.� They were thrilled that they could play a tune already.�

�It�s important to let them
experience success early on; it will make them less likely to get frustrated if
they have a tune to always call their own.�

�I see we have a similar
approach to teaching, what do you do when you�re not teaching my third
graders?�

�I teach astronomy at the
Salem Institute, it�s a secondary school for gifted students.�

�I�d like to learn more
about it, if you recommend it I may send Amber there.�

�Well, SI is extremely
exclusive, it is by invitation only and then only if the child shows very
specific aptitudes.�

Charles was very put-off by
this, that anyone would have the audacity to imagine his extremely gifted
daughter wouldn�t be good enough for some hoity toity nose in the air stuck up
school.

�Oh, I�m so sorry.� I didn�t
mean to imply. . .�

�Okay, fine,� he said,
perhaps a little too shortly.� �Who do you have to be to go to this place,
anyway?�

�Again, I can only say I�m sorry,�
she was getting a bit defensive herself, �who you are has nothing to do
with the school, it targets very special very specific abilities.� And for the
record, I do not choose who goes there I only teach to the best of my
abilities.�� She put the half full cup on the table and rose to leave.

�Mea culpa,� Charles said,
and stood looking chagrined.�

�Please� he said, and then
hesitated.� He really didn�t know what he wanted to say but he knew he wanted
this mysterious woman to linger a bit.

�I think we�re both a bit
knackered� she offered.

He grinned at the Briticism.

�What is this?�� She asked,
indicating the portfolio on the counter.

�It�s a pattern for a Guitar
laute, from an old German design.�

�May I?�

�Of course� he said, opening
the folio as he handed it to her.

�This is very involved, are
you a luthier?�

�No Ma�am; Presbyterian.�

She looked uncertain until
she saw the grin he was trying to suppress.

�Ah, a pawky wit.�

Sidra suppressed a chuckle
at his confused expression, �it�s true,� she thought to herself, �We are a
common people separated by language.�

�Well, if you need any
materials for this project I may be able to help,� she offered, �some of the
better woods for building instruments grow around here.�

�Are you a luthier?�

�No, but I could convert.�

�Touch�.�

She looked thoughtfully at
the plans before her.

�I recognize some of the
materials, glues and lacquers that have to be mixed just before application.�

�Your German is better than
mine; I can barely make it out.�

�When do you want to start?�

�When I get the wood I
guess.�

�Tomorrow then, I�ll bring
samples�

And she did; maple for the
soundboard, cherry and hard oak for the body and neck.� She also provided ebony
for the pegs and frets and abalone for mother of pearl on the neck and
fretboard.

Charles got busy.

Two months and six days
later he smelled of sweat and grime and exotic oils and lacquers, but he was
positively beaming at the thought of the beautiful work of art he had just put
the finishing, well, finish to.�

�Amber,� he called out.
�It�s all done!��

Two nights later he called
blackbirds from the trees without knowing it.

The next morning he was
awakened by a knock at the door.

He dragged himself out of
bed and put on a robe to answer the door.

�Sid?�

�Charles, we have to talk.�
May I come in?�

�Uh, sure, I�ll put a kettle
on.�

He put the kettle on the
stove, set it for medium heat and went back to his bedroom to throw on a shirt
and some trousers.� Before heading back to the kitchen he swilled some
mouthwash and dragged a comb through his hair.

�Is there something wrong?�

�No, yes, maybe.� Oh I�m not
the best person for this.� Charles, you are a music-magus.�

The kettle began to whistle.

)O(

I know, I know, not a lot
happens in this chapter.� Sometimes you need to set the stage, and a recently
widowed (widowered?) father is not going to jump on the first woman he meets �
we have to give it time.

And anything worth having is
worth waiting for, yes?
- 3
- 4
- 5
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A Magic Beyond All We Do Here