And no birds sing [OPEN]

The first time she had ever gone to the Lake District had been with her family. She couldn't remember it very well, of course. She had been three, and her mum had been about to burst with Pippa. Simon had been four and had been happy and adventurous, though she had always been the braver. She was the one who tugged him into the water, told him to chase the geese and then stopped so he was on the quest on his own. They had found the bones of an old dead fish and chased each other with it, screaming. Their mother lied on the beach, rubbing her stomach with discomfort, while their father attempted to join them in their play.

It had probably been the most loving they had ever been. Her father had been present, their mother had watched and laughed, even through her swollen irritation. They had camped that night, Simon and Wendy curled on either side of their father, their mother occupying a comfortable bed all to herself in their magical tent. They had eaten sausages for breakfast that they had cooked over a fire, having been unable to catch any fish that were not just bones.

Wendy could not remember much of it. But she could remember the feeling. The happiness and unity of a family barely hanging in now, the tranquility of being alone in the big world, occupying a little slice of paradise. It was like the little beach had become all theirs, and it would always be theirs, because that memory was for them alone. Once Pippa and Noah were born, they went once or twice more, but the last time had been - wow. Seven years ago. And they had been rained on at night, had to skip the camping bit.

It seemed like the right place to take Pippa.

Pippa wasn't thrilled. Wendy had concocted the plan after a family meeting with her parents, in which she had discussed Pippa's sudden distaste for the Fudge family as a whole. Her parents had written it off as side effects of "puberty" but Wendy wasn't buying it. Her love for her siblings had never changed, in all of her years. Pippa couldn't just suddenly decide she was too cool to be seen with her sister in public. Nope.

Obviously solution was to take her camping.

They had fought, as Pippa didn't want to go. So when the time for the portkey came, Wendy had just grabbed onto her sister and held up the old can. They were at the lake before Pippa could anything against it.

It hadn't been very wise.

The younger blonde took about a half hour to be tempted to sit near her sister. Wendy had gone running into the lake, and by the time an hour had passed, Pippa's tennaged indignation had lost out to her childlike joy for nature. The two ran through the water, kicking up sand and rocks, jumping in and chasing the few fish that had not had the sense to swim away when they had first sensed the Fudge girls.

The sun began to set. They climbed back onto the beach, pulled on short and tank tops over their wet suits. Pippa was reading through the Quibbler, devouring the chocolate frog cards Wendy had brought. The elder blonde sorted through the cards, looking for the Sirius Black and Flitwick that he was missing. Eventually, Pippa let out a sigh and rested her head in her sister's lap, just like she had as a child.

And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

The Lake District no longer held the magic. Their frolicking was fun, but it was careful on Wendy's side, fearful of losing her sister once more to teenaged angst or whatever it was that stolen her sunny disposition and replaced it with a sulking assurance of coolness. The play was compromised, and the Fudge family unit was absent. This wasn't a secret place just for them. They were borrowing it. Nothing more.

Even the geese were gone.

But Pippa didn't know the difference. The strange sense of disappointment was hers alone. So, she sadly stroked her sister's hair as the younger read through her magazine.

"Creep-o," Pippa teased, looking up at her sister.

"I remember when you used to love your family," Wendy said loftily, grinning cheekily at her. "Now we're all weird-os and creeps."

"Oh, shut up," Pippa giggled, looking back at her magazine. After a moment, she said, "You know, you didn't have to force me here."

Wendy combed through her sister's hair, blinking away the sadness. She twitched a small smile onto her face to oppose the sadness. "Yeah, I did."

Pippa chewed on her lip. "Yeah, okay. You did... But why?"

Wendy shrugged. "I just miss you, I guess."

Pippa rolled her eyes. "You're with me, like, all year? You stalk me at school and then sleep right across the hall at home."

Wendy sighed. "Remember when we shared a room?"

Pippa laughed. "See! You're a total stalker."

Wendy pinched her sister's nose, and she shook her head, looking back at her magazine. "Any rate, glad you forced me, I guess."

Wendy glowed and continued to comb through Pippa's hair. "Quite right I was. Always listen to big sister." Pippa rolled her eyes with a smirk, and Wendy amended, "Thank you."

And so the time passed. Pippa fell asleep after the day of excitement, and Wendy looked out across the lake that had so long ago lost its magic. It had given the last of its remnant magic to give her one last day with her sister, as sisters. But she feared it might be one of their last. But while they had peace, she would enjoy it.

And there she lullèd me asleep,
And there I dream'd – ah! woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dream'd
On the cold hill's side.

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