May 26th, 1895 - Grimmauld Place

Just two days and Sirius graduated and then both he and Phineas would be home. Belvina could not decide if she was apprehensive, annoyed or excited. Things were delightfully quiet without two of them home, but also dreadfully boring when she couldn't count on Arcturus to entertain her. Cygnus was not an option and he knew it. As she thought about it, on the one hand, she wanted to hear all about their Hogwarts year and it was exciting that Sirius was now an official adult and all. She was more curious to know how Phineas survived his first year, but she would figure that out when he came home.

Currently she was sat at the piano, fingers tracing out the well-practiced warm up chords. Her little fingers still struggled to reach sometimes, but she was quick and she was diligent in her practice so she had gotten the hang of them rather easily. Now only if she could find a better singing voice. Maybe if she finished the piece her teacher was trying to impress upon her, she could play it for Father next time he surfaced. The motions were so practiced her thoughts kept wandering, until she slipped up and got scolded. Merlin, she hated that.

An hour or so later, she was freed from the piano stool, her bum a little sore from the wooden bench and her back a little stiff, but she should be used to it by now. "Mother, I would like to play the harp." She announced as her tutor left and it was just the pair of them in the room again. Belvina perched herself on the sofa and helped herself to a macaron from the tea cart. It took almost too much willpower not to flop down in a thwump of skirts, but she contained herself. Anything was more comfortable than the bench.

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Ursula Black

  

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Like constellations imploding in the night
Everything is turning, everything is turning

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Sitting in on a child's music lesson was one of the most traumatic experiences one could put themself through, in Ursula's opinion, unless the child was a natural virtuoso. Belvina, realistically, probably wasn't going to be a female Mozart but Ursula had sat in on her lesson because she could just about tolerate fumbling mistakes on a piano when they came from her perfect little girl. She was such an angel even when she hit the wrong notes! Even still, Ursula couldn't pretend a small part of her wasn't relieved when the lesson came to an end and the piano was abandoned.

Ursula put her novel to one side as Belvina came to sit nearby. The harp, my darling? She questioned this before she'd actually given it a moment of thought. Upon reflection though... Yes, she was an angel, of course she must play the instrument of an angel! What makes you suddenly want to play the harp?

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Outfit | Tag: Belvina Black | Notes:

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   Barnabas Skeeter

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Thanks to Bee for this magnificent set <3

Belle pursed her lips at her mother's question. "It is not sudden, I have been thinking about it for a while." Why she had decided not of all times to ask was different (and she didn't know why), but she had been considering asking for a little bit. "And the piano is... alright, but I would like to try something different." All little girls her age were taught piano, it was expected and Belvina did not want to be like everyone else. She wanted to be better, to do something different and so she thought asking for a different instrument might set her apart. There had been other considerations of course, the cello or the violin, but none of them had held any interest to her.

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Like constellations imploding in the night
Everything is turning, everything is turning

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Then you must play the harp. It was as simple as that. I could take you to a music shop to see what sort of harp would be best for you, how would you like that? They wouldn't buy any of course, Belvina would have one specially made for her, but it would please Ursula to watch her daughter trying out harps.

Oh, but you must wear gloves to play it. As ladylike of an instrument as it was, Ursula couldn't allow Belvina to develop calluses on her pretty little fingers. Her hands should remain as soft and unspoiled as they were now, calluses were for scullery maids. And house elves, probably; she wouldn't know, she avoided the elves at all costs they rather disgusted her and the very last thing she ever wanted to do was to touch one's hand.

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Outfit | Tag: Belvina Black | Notes:

  

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Thanks to Bee for this magnificent set <3

Well, that had been easier than she thought it might be. One little push and she would even get to pick out the one she wanted! "That is a wonderful idea, I would like that very much, thank you, Mother." Best to play up the appreciation with casual flattery.

Her face fell a little when her mother mentioned she ought to wear gloves. Surely that would make things difficult. "I do not think I can play with gloves. They would get in the way." She was trying to be reasonable. She wasn't overly worried about her fingers, it seemed silly that her mother would be. Why would gloves be required? She had never seen a harpist wear gloves! What a laughing stock she would be!

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Like constellations imploding in the night
Everything is turning, everything is turning

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Of course you can! she replied, undaunted by Belvina's reluctance. A properly fitting pair of lightweight gloves will keep your fingers soft and pretty without getting in the way of your playing. You wouldn't want to mar your perfect little hands, would you? It was impossible to imagine that she would disagree once she understood what was at stake. Really, you ought to wear them when you write too... It disturbed her that she was only thinking of this now. If she'd enforced this from the first moment Belvina picked up a writing implement then she'd not only be used to writing in gloves, but she'd have been protected all this time.

Show Mama your hands, won't you? Perhaps it wasn't too late to take preventative measures.

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Outfit | Tag: Belvina Black | Notes:

  

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Thanks to Bee for this magnificent set <3

"Mother," Belvina started to whine, but knew it might be pointless. Hopefully they could find a competent instructor who would tell her mother that gloves were sort of ridiculous. Belvina would practice without them at any rate and just hope her mother did not feel the need to sit in on her lessons.

"They're fine." She insisted, holding out her hands for her mother to inspect, not a cut or imperfection on them. "It's not as if ink stains are permanent." Honestly had her mother not grown up doing the exact same things?

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Like constellations imploding in the night
Everything is turning, everything is turning

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As much as she might like to spoil her only daughter, she drew the line at anything that would physically spoil her daughter. If Ursula was spoiling her personality by indulging her, she didn't see it as such; Belvina would marry well and would only feel entitled to what she deserved as was her birthright. A sense of entitlement, in her opinion, was not a negative attribute in those who were truly entitled to what they were demanding. One wouldn't call a queen entitled for wanting a throne.

Ink stains are not the problem. She took her daughters hands in her own and scrutinized them. She quickly honed in on Belvina's right hand. At a glance her fingers all looked perfectly normal but that didn't mean she wasn't actively starting to form calluses. In her youth and to this day, Ursula's quills had been enchanted with a form of cushioning charm that protected her fingers from mutation and she'd seen to it that writing instruments Belvina had were also enchanted in such a way, but it wasn't a specific charm to prevent calluses forming. If Belvina held them too tightly or used them for too long they might still cause some damage.

She released the girl's hands, drew her wand, and summoned a quill. Show me how you hold your quill, she urged, offering the newly summoned writing implement.

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Outfit | Tag: Belvina Black | Notes:

  

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Thanks to Bee for this magnificent set <3

This was turning into a whole thing now. She should have just asked Auntie. There was no way Auntie would have asked all of these questions and worried about her hands of all things! And Auntie would have said yes too!

Belle thought this might be over, but then a quill was being summoned and shoved into her hands and it was all she could do not to huff out her clear resentment of this whole ordeal. She held the quill aloft, being purposefully light in her grip. What was her mother going to do next, ban her from writing? Or learning? It seemed quite ridiculous! There was an expectation for her correspondence and her French! "See, perfectly fine. It is not as if I hold a quill all day." Lessons were long enough, but it wasn't straight writing for hours upon hours.

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