Nora Cadwallader (safekeep) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-11-15 17:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | nora cadwallader, rhys cadwallader |
WHO: Nora & Rhys Cadwallader and the long-term guests of The Gentle Green
WHAT: What's going on over in the closed wing of the Bed & Breakfast
WHEN: Over the last few weeks
WHERE: The Gentle Green, Wales
WARNINGS: Nah
Christopher Hill was supposed to be at Hogwarts. He was supposed to be sitting in the courtyard laughing with his mates, or suffering through a Potions class, or eating lunch in the Great Hall. He definitely wasn't supposed to be trapped inside a lame bed and breakfast in the middle of Nowhere, Wales with his dumb sister's dumb friends, forcing him to practice his spellwork with a borrowed old man wand. It was better than starving in Diagon Alley, he supposed, but not by much. He imitated Rhys's movement and spell, but the wand wasn't a natural fit, and the magic sparked back at him and almost made him drop his wand. "This is bloody pointless," he muttered. Rhys, the uncle of a sullen teenager, was unfazed by this particular teenager’s sullenness. “It’s not pointless. Do you know how many times this one saved my ass in the field? You need to be able to cast a shield. Come on, try it again.” He cast a little flock of conjured canaries and sent them to peck at Chris—gently, though!—hoping to annoy him into performing the spell. "What the--" Chris ducked and dodged the first few little birds, but more of them made it through. He swore, then started aiming at them, finally connecting the spell with a canary that poofed into a flutter of yellow feathers. That, at least, pulled a smile to his face. “Amazing! That was brilliant!” Rhys said, his own face lit up with genuine enthusiasm at Chris’ accomplishment. “Now, try an Oppugno. Make them attack me. Get back at me for all my stupid jokes. Do your worst.” Hopefully, that would help to cheer him up. Chris saw right through Rhys's attempts, but couldn't deny that it sounded like fun. The little birds kept pecking at him, gently or not, and it took him a few times to get the spell right, but when he did, canaries swerved and flew at the former Auror instead. "That's for all the puns." Rhys made a show of being slaughtered by the tiny, attacking birds. “Merlin, I'm done for! Tell Nora I love her! The horror! The horror!” he said, flailing dramatically before slumping ‘dead’ in his chair with his tongue hanging out and conjured canaries still pecking at his head. Even then, he couldn't resist a final, terrible, “Rest in beaks.” The teenager looked decidedly unimpressed. "That was terrible, Rhys." “I can't hear you, I've died from your powerful attack,” Rhys’ corpse said. "Guess I better go find a tree to bury you under and tell Nora you ran off with a circus performer or something," Chris said, his deadpan unchanged. “I'll haunt you. I'll be the most embarrassing ghost.” Rhys threatened from beyond the grave. "Literally no different than right now except you'd float." “It would just be that much easier to sneak up behind you and go ‘boo!’” Chris sighed. "I don't think teachers are supposed to threaten to haunt their students." “If I were a real teacher, I'd deduct points for sass,” Rhys grinned, sitting up straight again and raising his wand. Back to business. “Think fast!” he said quickly, casting a flock of multicoloured (but harmless) butterflies and directing them to attack. Chris grimaced. He put up a shield -- it wasn't much, but didn't need to me to let the butterflies bounce off of it. Shouting through the shield and the insects, he said petulantly, "I thought learning this stuff with an Auror would be fun." "Are they gone yet?" Chris asked his sister eagerly as she closed the door to the room they shared. He pushed through the sheets Rhys and Nora hung to give each sibling a little privacy (not that it did much) just in time to see his sister shake her head and give him that same 'keep it down' look she always did. When the bed and breakfast had guests, he and Meredith and Sally and Clarence always had to stay quiet, stay out of sight, stay only in their little closed-off hallway and wait it all out. This felt like the longest weekend of his life. All he wanted to do was go outside. "Albi will tell us when it's clear," his sister said quietly. Chris groaned. "Why doesn't anybody just ever go home early? Who even wants to be here?" "You should," Meredith told him flatly. "I know it's not ideal, but we're safe here. And warm, and fed--" "And trapped." Meredith sighed, but Chris kept sulking. "It isn't like we can go back home, Chris. We don't have anywhere else." "We were doing alright in Diagon Alley before your friend Nora kidnapped us." His sister startled at the word. "That's not what happened." "Really? Because did she ask either of us what we wanted?" Chris crossed back to his side of the room and pulled the sheet closed, but Meredith followed anyway. He sat on his little bed, facing the wall and not looking back at her. He was quieter now, but just as upset. "Everybody back there probably thinks we're dead, you know." Meredith sat down beside him and, after a moment, said, "It's safer that way." "That is bullshit, Mer," Chris said. "We're not special. Why should we get to be here when everyone else -- This just sucks. It really sucks. And we can't even do anything to help. How long are we going to be here, Mer? Until Death Eaters show up and send us all to Azkaban, or kill us? But hey, at least we're warm!" Before his sister could respond, Albi the house elf popped into the room and made Chris jump. "Everyone has gone home now. The coast is clear!" "Great, thanks," Chris said, still steaming as he darted out of the room to somewhere private. He would have to go back to lessons with one of them soon, but he didn't want to see or talk to anyone else for the rest of the day. “History doesn't have to be boring! That droning old ghost has ruined learning for generations of Hogwarts students,” Sally Peterson said excitedly, happy for the chance to share her knowledge with someone it mattered to. “If only people would learn from history, we wouldn't be having this same argument over and over. It's as though people haven't changed at all since the first war; it's terrible. People like you and I have a long and interesting history in the magical world, but unfortunately, all people seem to remember is the persecution. Tell me, my dear, what are some topics that excite you, that light up that big, beautiful brain of yours? We'll start there!” The older woman was already assembling a large pile of books, maps, and assorted notes that she seemed to be eager to show off. Despite himself, Chris found that he liked Sally. Probably more than anybody else there, in fact. She reminded him of his aunt, who’d taken care of him and Meredith until she passed a few years earlier. Sally was kind and almost as stir-crazy as he was. At least teaching him gave her something to do. “As long as it’s not goblin rebellions…” Chris said, then thought again. “Actually, how about inventors? People who changed things for the better, like.” Sally looked delighted. “Now, that is one of my very favourite topics! I like the way you think!” she said affectionately, rummaging through her stack of books until she found what she was looking for—a big, green leatherbound volume with what appeared to be a ‘thinking cap’ on the cover. She whipped through its pages, already knowing what she was looking for. “Perhaps you’ll find this inspiring—I certainly did,” Sally said, handing the book to him, which was opened to a section headlined Muggleborn Inventors. The text seemed to move and change on the page as though it were calculating what it believed would be the most exciting topic to display. It eventually settled on a subject. Chris settled in to read about a pair of sisters in the 1800s who made big strides with potions. He read a few of the passages out loud when he found something cool, but eventually decided he wanted to talk instead of read. “What do you like about history so much?” Sally sat down beside him and folded her hands, looking thoughtful. “Oh, I don’t know! It’s inspiring, definitely! But also, I suppose it’s comforting, you know? So much good has happened! Also, a lot of terrible things have happened, yes, but they always end, don’t they? We’ve already survived that much, and we’ll survive this, too. Someday, all of this will be just another chapter in a history book, but the good we do will live on! I don’t know if that makes any sense.” Chris thought it sounded nice, he supposed. But at just barely seventeen, all he’d known in the wizarding world was the part that would have its own chapter, none of the peaceful glossed-over in between. “It doesn’t feel like it,” he had to confess. “Like it’ll ever just be over.” “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it will be.” Sally said optimistically. “Clarence and I made it through the first go-around, and we’ll make it through this one, too. The good people in this world far outnumber the bad. Just remember that you are loved and important and no-one can take that away from you. You are the future of this world. Soon, all of those murderous old dinosaurs will be gone, and it’ll be up to you to make the world a better place. So get inventing!” "The good people may well outnumber the bad," Chris said, still feeling defeated, "But it only takes a few bad people to ruin it for everyone else." Sally sighed; she had to admit, he had a point there. It took a moment for her to gather her cheerfulness again, but‐as always—she managed to pull herself together. “For now, maybe! But even Tyrannosaurus Rex’s reign didn’t last forever!” she said brightly. “And he certainly didn’t invent any potions. Not like the Stevenson sisters! Who—and this is actually a very funny story…” She picked up the book. Chris perked up. He could use a funny story. "It's three quick turns to the left for every one slow to the right," Nora instructed, demonstrating in her own cauldron as she spoke. Pepper-up potion was hardly the most exciting brew, but it was one of the most useful, especially this time of year. Even with lessons, Nora needed to be practical, and the inn didn't have the same kind of resources to safely dispose of dangerous, complicated potions that Hogwarts did. Chris's 'quick' turns turned lethargic as he stared into the cauldron. He was ready to drop Potions after his OWLs, but a better than expected score left his sister encouraging him to continue, even if it meant more time in a damp and murky dungeon. (Or it should have meant, anyway. This wasn't the sixth year he should be having, and it was strange to brew potions in such a well-lit, cheerful room.) Nora glanced over toward the cauldron with a word of caution. "If you slow down your pace, you'll have to reflect that the rest of the brew … you'll be here all afternoon." "Right, since I've got so much else to do today." The sarcasm dripped from the teenager's voice, and Nora sighed. "You'll probably also burn the potion that way," she said, not addressing the other comment. Then, inspired, "Did your sister ever tell you about the call we got to Madam Primpernelle's brew house?" Chris kept stirring, but barely glanced at Nora, like he was trying hard not to show any interest in what she had to say. "Like, the make up potions company?" "That's the one. You'd be surprised how volatile some of those can be. The chain reactions they can set off are … pretty intense." Nora watch Chris's reaction, which seemed marginally less sullen than moments before. "You should've seen Meredith after … actually, I'm pretty sure I've still got a photo on my phone." At that, Chris stopped pretending not to care. "Really?" he asked, excited for the chance to see his always-serious sister looking anything less than professional and proper. "Mmhmm," Nora said, a small smile appearing as he asked. "Remember, keep watching for it to shift colours, that's when you lower the heat. Anyway, there was a horrid blue eyeliner incident…" Clarence had volunteered to give Chris Herbology lessons, and whenever the coast was clear and they were able, Clarence had taken these lessons outside. “To learn to identify useful wild plants and fungi in the field” was his official reasoning; “to stretch our legs and get a break before we all drive each other mental” was his off-the-books explanation once only Chris was in earshot. “Perhaps if we’re lucky, we’ll find some mushrooms,” Clarence said, grumbling as his knees protested as they climbed over a ridge toward the thick copse of trees just South of the B&B. “Magical things, mushrooms.” Chris's eyebrows went up. This couldn't be leading where he hoped it was leading, but it was worth a shot. "What kind of magical things?" he asked, conspiratorially. Surely Clarence of all people wasn't going to teach him about illicit magical plants, but then again, Clarence must have been young once, too… “Oh, you know, all the fun magical things,” Clarence said, trailing off as his shoe sunk deep into a puddle of mud. “UGH, don’t tell Sally where we’ll going. She’ll kill me for taking you out here when I said we’d be out back repotting mandrakes. Ugh, mandrakes—have you had much experience foraging for plants?” Chris remembered his mandrakes lessons vividly; during his first year, when a monster was attacking Muggleborn students and mandrakes were the only hope of reviving them, Chris learned as much as he could about the plants. Now, of course, he was far more interested in something else. Ignoring Clarence's question, he asked one of his own. "But what kind of fun magical things?" “Oh, well if I told you, that would ruin the surprise, now wouldn’t it? I think you’ll like these ones if we can find them, though. Usually, you can find them under—Eureka!” Clarence exclaimed, then promptly bumped his head on a tree branch. He was too triumphant to pay it much mind, however, as he pointed at a small patch of florescent pink mushrooms just up ahead, standing out starkly against the dull backdrop as they gave off a pulsating glow. Finally, finally, finally something interesting was happening. Glowing pink mushrooms had to mean something good, given the way Clarence was talking about them. And keeping it a secret from Sally and the others? Chris was already trying to determine the best hiding place in the room he and Meredith shared. "So how do you … can you just eat them, or …?" “Yes, though I’d do a nice scrubbing charm on them first! They don’t grow in the most hygienic of places, do they? You can give them a try if you like, I’ll pack some up in a container for later.” Clarence said helpfully, taking out a plastic bag and stooping to gather some of them up. He looked quite pleased with himself—Chris actually seemed to be getting into this particular lesson! He packed up as many mushrooms as he could, just in case. "Are they better -- er, you know more effective like -- if they're in a potion? Or just taken whole, or just a part of them or …" Chris stopped himself, suddenly determined not to look too enthusiastic. "It's just, Professor Sprout never taught us anything like this." Clarence would have been happy to have been asked one question, but to be asked his many thrilled him. “Really? I would have thought this would be quite useful for students around your age! But no matter. There are a number of ways to ingest these, and I’ll tell you about them all as soon as we get back. Still, you can try some now, if you’re curious!” Chris nodded nonchalantly, as if he wasn't dying of curiosity. He took a smaller one -- no need to rush into things -- and ate it. And he definitely felt … something. He wasn't quite dizzy, but maybe the world looked different, stretched out. Or was it the colours? Everything out there just looked more vibrant, didn't it? Was the sky always just that blue? Were the birds always singing quite so sweetly? This mushroom was definitely magic, Chris decided, gaining a new appreciation of his surroundings. "Thanks," he said, stretching the word out as he felt was appropriate for his new outlook. Clarence, however, seemed to have remained cheerfully oblivious. “You’re quite welcome! Can you feel them working already? Don’t your pores feel cleansed?” Chris closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the effects of the fungus. "Yeah, they definitely feel …" His eyes popped open again immediately. "Wait, what?" “Your skin looks healthier already,” Clarence said, pleased by the success of this mission and eager to continue their winning streak. He hopped over a log and kept looking. “Now, keep an eye out for a purple fern—it’s excellent for helping you focus on homework…” Behind Clarence, Chris made a face and trudged after him. Why was everyone he was stuck with so boring? |