The past is the only dead thing that smells sweet

Brunhilde Sigurd

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Amanda
Brunhilde's lips twisted into a grimace as she observed the clouds looming low in the sky. They would tear open and spill their guts over the relatively large muggle city. The dark blots in the sky were almost taunting, as they often liked to be before a storm, building up anticipation. The woman's ice blue eyes scanned the skies in disdain. She could easily sneak off into an alley and apparate home, but she didn't feel like it.

Clutching the new pair of dance shoes that she had bought, she turned her back on the studio. She had come here a couple of times but had never mustered up the courage to step inside. Dancing was something that she had always wanted to do, but of course it hadn't been an acceptable profession. For Brunhilde, it had dwindled from a passion into an occasional hobby, and then eventually she had abandoned it altogether.

The tall blonde strolled slowly back the way she had come. She held her head high, although confidence was not something that she was exhibiting these days. At least on her own she wasn't dying from the inside out. Yet all in all, she still felt the pang that loneliness brought with it. Sure, she had made friends with Nastasia, but that had been pretty much it. Her black pumps tapped quietly on the sidewalk as she observed the muggle businesses about her.
 
Grezhen rolled out from under a muggle car on a board with wheels that Grezhen constantly kept forgetting the name of. He gazed up into the sky with his mismatched eyes, though only his green one had vision. He assumed a storm would be coming soon, and well, the muggle woman was waiting patiently for Grezhen to hurry up with his job. He rolled himself back under the car, flicked out his wand, and repaired the car in a record time. Once again, he rolled out from underneath the car, wand carefully hidden now. His muggle workers stared at him with odd looks.

Grezhen smiled gently, "Start it up." One got in, and sure enough, the car would start. "Blimey, you are good!" Grezhen nodded, and the workers clocked themselves out. Grezhen wasn't just a mechanic, though he did enjoy fixing cars for fun. He owned this business, and well, took care of his brothers while they weren't in school. Rakas was at a friend's house, and as soon as the designated time hit, Rakas would be here. Grezhen knew that once Rakas entered Hogwarts, he would more than likely be in Gryffindor. Grezhen himself was a Slytherin, and was a Prefect though nothing more.

Azerail made it to Slytherin, though he is not technically related to Grezhen in any way. Only by adoption, and even that is a loose end. Grezhen managed to met the majority of that family, and the only nice ones he had met were Chavdar and Nataliia. Grezhen never met the Head in person, but knew of him. And it was no wonder Azerail still wanted to be with Grezhen. The man smiled to himself, and went into his shop to change clothing. Once getting back into his black shirt, jeans, and a black trench coat, he was about to close down the garage.

Someone had caught his eyes. Grezhen narrowed his eyes, and murmured, "That couldn't be...?" The woman looked just like a girl he used to crush on back in the past in Hogwarts. Brunhilde. Of course, Grezhen wasn't watching where he was going, and he ran into a muggle car that was raised up high for the next day to work on, and Grezhen's head made a loud impact on it. He stumbled back and fell. Grezhen held his head with his large hand, and heard a small sound of wood hit the stone floor as well. His wand managed to fall out of his pocket, and luckily, it had rolled out of sight of any muggles.
 
Brunhilde turned as she heard a loud clang. A man lay sprawled on the floor of the garage. The old Brunhilde would have simply walked by, but she wasn't that person anymore. Holding her ballet shoes tightly to one side of her, she stepped inside the garage and held out her other hand. "Are you alright?" she inquired, her English accent laced with a bit of Norwegian. The blonde woman wondered whether or not the man was going to take her hand. It was just as well that she had moved into the garage, because the clouds had finally stopped their teasing and unleashed a strong downpour on the muggle dwellings.
 
Grezhen was surprised that the woman, he was convinced was Brunhilde, was offering a hand to him. Grezhen held up a hand that motioned, 'Hang on a sec'. His eyes gazed around for his wand, and soon found it next to a toolbox. He grabbed it and quickly put it inside his trench coat. He took her hand, but pulled himself up. He dusted himself off, and finally spoke, "Yeah, I'm good." His odd colored eyes stared at her for a moment, before he turned to stare off into the rain. He murmured, speaking more to himself than really anyone, "Well, looks like a total downpour now." Grezhen doubted that this woman, if were Brunhilde, that she would recognize the former prefect and Slytherin. That was many, many years ago. He introduced himself, "I'm Grezhen, Grezhen Varius." He put on a weak smile, which was rather common for him.
 
Brunhilde gave the man a slight smile. She wondered what he had grabbed for, but it was probably some sort of muggle tool. A wrench? Didn't muggles use something like that? The woman had taken Muggle Studies but that was long, long ago. She was positive that she wouldn't even know how to work a fellytone if presented with the opportunity.

The woman thought that she had seen the man's face before, but it had to be purely coincidence. She had not had many dealings with muggles. Brunhilde couldn't even put a finger on a name anyways.

She had dismissed it until the name was plucked from her memory and rolled out of the man's mouth. Her blue eyes widened and she had to keep her jaw from hanging wide open. "Grezhen? My word- I didn't recognize you. I'm- Brunhilde." Although it was obvious that he already knew that. A small smile curled at her lips. What were the chances of something like this happening? And what was her former Slytherin classmate doing working in a muggle car garage? She was determined to find out.
 
Grezhen nodded, and could only smile a bit when she recognized him. He had been a quiet lad who never really smiled much during his early years of school. Though he was an authority figure when he was awarded Prefect. Something that he had taken very seriously, and busted a ton of pranksters and such all through school. Grezhen, though, now isn't really extremely serious unless it came to certain matters like anything concerning his two sons. The man stared at Brunhilde, and noted, "I figured that it was you. After all, who can forget the blond hair and pale blue eyes?"

Grezhen had really forgotten a lot about his former classmate from the Slytherin house in front of him. Of course, he couldn't really remember if they were even friends or spoke. He had so busy with Azerail and Rakas, he really did not keep up with his friends or anything. Other than the muggles that worked under him. Grezhen wondered aloud, "What are the odds of us meeting up like this?" He was known for loving the winter, and well, it was odd to place him in New Zealand. He still had his heavy Britian accent still too.
 
Brunhilde self-consciously brought a hand to her hair, running her fingers through it. She probably looked an absolute mess. The woman was getting used to smiling more often, and she barely even felt the change in her expression as her grin spread. A small flush of color rose to her pale cheeks. "I- I have to be honest, I thought you looked familiar but I dismissed that thought entirely," she admitted, although that was blatantly obvious. Grezhen had been a prefect from her house. She had been relatively shy herself, and they hadn't spoken much. She remembered her classmate as a serious prefect however. The blonde had had enough good sense not to get into trouble.

She remembered the dancing shoes that she had clutched in her slender hands, and she was quick to place them behind her back. "It's almost too insane to be true. Are you working in this shop?" It was strange that she would meet a former housemate as dedicated to his prefecture as Grezhen that was working in a garage with muggle automobiles.
 
Grezhen wondered if Brunhilde had smiled much when she was in school. If only he could really remember his peers. He barely remembered names, let alone their smiles or appearances. Grezhen laughed softly, and noted, "Well, I wasn't exactly someone to remember except for that harsh and serious prefect." He shrugged lightly. "I don't remember ever putting you in detention or anything. So that is a good way to remember someone, huh." Grezhen was proud that even though his past was not a pleasant one, things had looked up ever since he was in school. That was a relief, not being around the parents anymore. His scars from his childhood had faded to where they were almost completely invisible.

Grezhen then noticed how odd it did seem that he was working in an odd place such as this. Grezhen stammered a bit, "Uh.. Yeah, I own the place. I work on the parts that are impossible to fix by the muggle ways." He smirked slightly, and was hinting about using magic to fix the cars. It was nice to work in a place without so much magic. Grezhen preferred not being around it much nowadays. "Plus, my brother stays with a friend who happens to be...one and this makes it easier to seem normal to them." Grezhen was positive that Brunhilde didn't know Rakas. After all, Rakas was born well after they had graduated.
 
Brunhilde chuckled slightly as she looked back to Grezhen. She was reminded of how old she was. What had she done with her life since she had last seen him? Her insides churned as she thought, Not much. After school she had gone into the work force, and that was basically it. Sure, she had managed to pick up the language of French, but she felt that she had plenty of room for accomplishment. Grezhen seemed happy enough here. She could see it in his expression- well, at least she thought she did. She craved that sort of job satisfaction. It was hard to find true fulfillment in such a plastic world.

"No, you would never have seen me in detention- maybe you'd remember Lief being there!" She wondered if Grezhen would remember her twin brother. "He was usually subtle about troublemaking but I think he did get into trouble a few times." Brunhilde had always been shy, and Lief, while quiet, had been more of the extrovert.

The blonde crossed her arms as she glanced around the place. She was now accustomed to the stench of oil, which had first caused her nose to crinkle. Muggles were rather fascinating when it boiled down to it. "I bet you turn out a lot of happy customers," she replied, quite amused, "What got you into cars anyway?" She didn't think that the Muggle Studies class at school had offered any huge section on automobiles. "And I didn't know you had a brother." There were a lot of things she didn't know about Grezhen.
 
Grezhen made sure that his vision out of his emerald eye was unblocked by his hair by moving it to the side gently. It didn’t matter if his pale blue eye was blocked. He could not see out of it anyway, so it didn’t matter. Grezhen struggled to remember Lief. Then it clicked in his mind, “Ah, Lief, I think I do remember putting him in detention once. But he did not get in trouble much, did he? And if it is the same man I am thinking of, then he is your…twin, right?” Grezhen memory was incredibly fuzzy, but it all started clicking, piece by piece.

Grezhen glanced outside, to see the rain continue to pour down like it was in a rush to get out the water. The man turned his gaze to Brunhilde, and nodded slightly, “Yeah, after they get over the huge…goth appearance I sometimes have. And the eyes sometimes freak them out. Otherwise, they do end up happy that their vehicle is fixed.” Grezhen smiled gently, and possibly his best smiles.

It made him appear kinder and warmer. Grezhen had to think about the next question, and he shrugged lightly, “Just got tired of always living in the wizarding world. And well, I discovered cars, and it was like I was drawn to them somehow. And my brother, well, he is turning ten in December, so he was born well after we graduated. Hyperactive kid, future Gryffindor, I’m sure. I’m technically his guardian, and the same with my other brother, who was adopted into the family.” Grezhen was happy that he was caring for his two brothers. It was much better than having his parents care for them.
 
Brunhilde nodded. "Yes, he is my twin. He was not in detention often- he was quiet about what he did." The blonde woman could not help smirking. As much as she had disapproved of her brother causing trouble, she had to admit that he was more intelligent than most people about it.

"Your eyes don't bother me at all," she responded. She couldn't believe she had said such a thing out loud, and fought to keep redness from rising to her cheeks. "And the muggles never suspect anything? I'd have to say with magic on your side, you'd kill the competition." Brunhilde was thoroughly surprised that people weren't coming to the garage in droves, rain or no. He really has a nice smile, she thought to herself.

"Well, it's good that you get to pursue something that you like," she said, quite appalled at the bitterness that she felt. She decided to pull herself out of her self pity and smiled at Grezhen. "Two kids to look after? Wow, they must keep you busy. I- don't have children of my own." She had never really had a relationship either, although she did not admit that out loud. Work constantly occupied her time. "I have nieces and nephews though. Lief and Tristan both had kids."
 
Grezhen laughed softly, almost inaudibly, "I thought so. Quiet would explain it, I suppose. I never caught on half the time when he did do something." Grezhen had to admit, Lief did impress him back in the days. Grezhen glanced up, astonished at Brunhilde's comment about his eyes. If he did blush, he hid it quite well. It wasn't often that he received a compliment, especially over something that people stared at as if he were some sort of freak.

The man shook his head, and laughed, "No, they don't. I am good at covering my tracks. Besides," Grezhen paused for a moment, making sure no one else could overhear him as he said, "I want to make sure that the 'competition' doesn't go out of business because of mine. It wouldn't be fair." Grezhen shrugged lightly. He thought of other people more than himself, and had always been like that.

Grezhen smiled, and wondered what she was doing after all these years. He was about to ask, but she mentioned the kids he looked after. Grezhen sighed, "Yeah, though Azerail is in school, and Rakas will be running in here within the next hour or so." Grezhen knew that Rakas did in fact, tire him out a bit when he was always active, while Grezhen wasn't nearly as active as he used to be. "I don't have any nieces and nephews. I'm the oldest, and Azerail is only thirteen. I would be highly concerned if he had kids." Grezhen chuckled softly. "What have you been doing over the past...decade or so?"
 
Going out on a limb to help a stranger had its kind rewards. The circumstances under which she and Grezhen had run into one another were strange, but Brunhilde was enjoying herself all the same. In New Zealand, she had found all sorts of things to fill up her empty little life. While she wasn't sure if she was going to dance ever again, she had made friends. She could only look forward at this point.

She admired the fact that Grezhen actually cared about his competition- something that she couldn't say she would have done. The woman had never pitied muggles, but she wasn't seeing them as inferior anymore like she used to. She had taken quite the step away from her pureblood heritage. Brunhilde's ice blue eyes were lit with a warmth that had long since frequented them.

A lilting laugh broke past her lips as Grezhen commented on the ridiculousness of a thirteen year old having kids. "I'd imagine that'd be highly unorthodox!" Her smile faded just a bit as Grezhen asked her what she had done with her life. "To be honest- not much," she replied softly. "I've been working, I guess. I used to work for the Ministry in Britain but when I was offered a job here, I decided to take it. I thought the change of scenery would be nice." The blonde woman was rather worried about the lack of spice in her life.
 
Grezhen wondered what about this woman had changed. He couldn’t place a finger on it, even if he had tried to. He just couldn’t remember much about his past anymore. Things had turned toward the good, even after his late wife had passed away. Grezhen missed her, but he had long gotten over her death. Sure, he still cared for her, but there was no changing the past. It was really pointless to think about it now. And that was over ten years ago. That was the past. And everyone had to move on every once and a while.

Grezhen grew curious over something. It was the eyes that had changed. Something was added to them, and he liked it. Grezhen thought that maybe, she was colder back in the days? Perhaps, or perhaps not. Grezhen had no idea. He could only hope to remember sooner or later. More than likely later, though.

Grezhen nodded, indicating that he agreed with her. Azerail had a crush, or girlfriend, and he hoped that was all that was going on with them. Grezhen listened intently to Brunhilde’s words. “Working is better than nothing at all though,” he pointed out. The man shrugged lightly, “The scenery here is…pleasant. So, nothing more besides working?” This was quite surprising to Grezhen. She certainly looked the type to have men worshipping her every move.
 
Brunhilde nodded, her head of blonde curls bouncing slightly. She was grateful for an excuse to be out of the rain. "It is indeed beautiful here." The scenery around the Herrogard had been absolutely gorgeous, but it was too cold. She left because she had to get out. The place simply wasn't home anymore- it was merely a shell of what had once been. "The people are so much more- warm. Much different than in England, though I think that may have been because I spent most of my time in London." Crossing her arms over her chest, she chuckled nervously, "Yeah, I'm pretty boring, aren't I? I think about picking up an old hobby from time to time, but I never do." Her feet shuffled a bit as she stood. She was positive that it was more interesting to listen to Grezhen than it was to listen to herself speak.
 
Grezhen moved his hair with his hand. Grezhen never partically liked his hair. It had always been jet black, and a bit frizzed out in the rain. Luckily though, not a drop had touched it, and thus it was smooth and wavy as of the moment. Grezhen nodded and smiled, “Yeah they are. I guess it kind of rubbed off on me. Or maturing helps to that as well.” Grezhen allowed a laugh to come from his chest, and shook his head, “Not at all. Well, you might need something more exciting to do besides work. I guess you need that little thing, motivation.” Grezhen smiled warmly, and stated, “I’m sure that you can spice up the life with something interesting. Take a day off and go out to the spa or whatever you ladies like to do.” Grezhen wanted to ensure that her life wasn’t boring, but then again, he wasn’t in that place to say otherwise.
 

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